The Changes We've Made
by WriterGem
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are out of McKinley and no longer together, each of them making names for themselves. When Blaine takes a chance looking for true love online and finds his first love, he keeps his identity a secret and attempts to win over Kurt once more
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hey guys! This is my very first ff, so be kind, I'm new. ;) It's a Klainer- and it will probably remain a mix of fluffly, angsty, and hopefully a little humorous the whole way through. I don't have it all written yet, but I have a clear idea of where it's going and plans to follow, so please be patient. I'll try to update pretty regularly, hopefully…. There will be another note at the end in case anything isn't clear here. Don't be shy, I would love to have reviews (constructive criticism is always helpful!) but I know that this chapter's a little rough, so keep that in mind. :) Thanks for checking it out anyhow- Hope you enjoy!**

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"Kurt, can you get me some more pins from the back?"

…

"Kurt?"

…

"_Kurt._"

Dropping his copy of the newest _Vogue_ and barely regaining his grasp on his half-full coffee cup, Kurt Hummel started. "Hmm, what?"

"I need some more pins, Kurt. Come on, quickly."

Kurt nodded, sighing, and stood up from the sleek leather sofa he had been lounging on. He stretched briefly- _surely it was far too early to be at work-_ before catching the eye of his boss and hurrying into the back room of the little tailor shop.

Grumbling under his breath, Kurt pulled the small plastic container of pins off its perch on the shelf next to the window. _Why can't she just bring the whole box in to begin with?_

But he knew the answer. Amber Chase was one of New York City's best and most widely-known tailors, used by the rich and famous to alter their both expensive and expansive wardrobes when they needed a better fit. Amber's service didn't come cheap, but if you were using her service, you wanted high-quality tailoring and would pay any price to get it. And Kurt knew that Amber liked to feel even more important than she was, so she sent her employees on somewhat menial errands. While grabbing the box of pins was easy enough, Kurt was still bitter about the time she had sent him on a wild goose chase to find the exact shade of boysenberry-colored thread she needed to bring up the hem of a diplomat's daughter's gown. For her twelfth birthday party. Kurt had perused through quilting stores for four hours before finding the right spool, and then it had turned out that the dress was actually _not_ boysenberry, but a deep pomegranate instead. Amber had sent him out again, though this time it took only three hours to locate the necessary thread and return it to the shop where Amber had given him a lashing out about wasting time. Because obviously he had just been skipping around Times Square the whole time, enjoying himself and buying salty pretzels and hot dogs from street vendors and feeding the pigeons, the spool of thread tucked safely into his pocket.

_Right._

Kurt rolled his eyes and, the container of pins in one hand, headed back into the front room, shouldering the door closed behind him. Amber grabbed the box from him and scowled before returning to her customer, a soon-to-be-bride, saying loudly, "I am _so_ sorry about that… Kurt just sometimes takes his _own_ time with things, even when others are depending on him…."

The bride peeked at Kurt, who had returned to the sofa and had the issue of _Vogue_ back in his hands. He saw an apologetic look in her deep brown eyes, and he gave her a small smile and shrugged. Amber was a little harsh, but she paid well and Kurt actually _was _learning a bit about fashion by working for her. With his natural skill and his degree in fashion design from Parsons, Kurt had been on the fast track to success. Unfortunately, his life had been put on hold when he woke up in the middle of the night to his ringing phone. Carole told him that his father had had another heart attack, and by ten the next morning Kurt was back in Lima where he remained for a year, living with his father and Carole, both of whom had reassured him that he didn't need to stay longer than a month or two. Kurt, however, could not leave. He felt the_ need_ to stay, the need to make sure his dad was and would be healthy. He knew that if he lost his dad, he would lose everything- his life would come crashing down around him. So he couldn't lose him. But after ten months even he had to admit that being back in Lima was stifling. Such a conservative town, so close-minded, so against who Kurt was. He couldn't find a way to be happy there; it was hard enough in high school and damn near impossible now that he had every right and ability to leave.

So as soon as he felt he could, Kurt packed his things and headed back to New York, the place he felt he could truly be himself. But getting a job was harder now- the economy had taken a turn for the worse and all the best jobs were taken by his previous classmates at Parsons (_who_, he thought resentfully, _were far less talented than he)_- and finding an affordable place to live even more difficult. After searching and searching and building up quite a debt on his tab at a local hotel, Kurt finally found an apartment. It was small and a little shabby and decidedly _not_ where Kurt wanted to spend his life, but it was shelter and something he could decorate to suit his own tastes, and that was good enough for the time being. Then he got the job working for Amber through a former classmate and everything seemed to be falling into place.

Everything, that is, except Kurt's two biggest wishes in life- to make a name for himself in the fashion industry, and to find true love.

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Blaine Anderson groaned and rolled over to slap his blaring alarm clock. The numbers shone bright green in the darkness of his room: 4 AM. He quietly cursed his early call time.

Swinging his legs from his bed, his feet found his fuzzy Ohio Buckeye slippers and he pushed himself off his memory foam mattress.

"Good morning," he said out loud to no one, walking groggily into his bathroom. He flipped the light switch, eyes closed; he wanted to see neither the bright fluorescent light shining in the large room nor the challenge his thick, curly brown hair would give his hair dresser today. Finally he cracked an eye open to chance a glimpse of himself and groaned loudly: half of his hair was matted down and half was sticking straight up. He sighed before stepping into the shower and quickly shampooing and conditioning his untidy mop.

He dried off after his shower and, a towel wrapped around his waist, brushed his teeth and shaved before running a comb through his curly locks. Then he headed to his walk-in closet and pieced together a paparazzi outfit- a pair of tight-ish black jeans and a red button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up. He slipped on a pair of black Converse All-Stars and a leather jacket.

Before heading out the door, Blaine poured himself a mug of coffee from his preset brewer, grabbed his keys from their hook, and pocketed his sunglasses (for later in the day when the Los Angeles sun was at its worst) and his iPhone.

He tapped in the code to turn on his alarm system and closed the door to his roomy apartment, locking it. P!NK's "Raise Your Glass" started playing and he slid his phone from his pocket, clicking the talk button when he saw it was his personal assistant.

"Morning, Les," Blaine said. "What's up?"

"Blaine, we're in the car, are you coming?" she replied, foregoing all formalities.

Nodding, he answered, "On my way out right now."

"Good; shooting starts early today and they can't do it without you, you know."

"I know, I know," Blaine chuckled. "Be there in a sec."

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"You look exhausted. Have a bad morning?"

Kurt looked up from his iPhone to his coworker Zoe Watson, sitting across the small glass café table from him. They were the only two semi-permanent employees Amber had- the rest had quit after working for her for a week or so- and they had lunch together just about every day at this local restaurant just across the street from the shop.

"Eh, just Amber being… you know… Amber."

Zoe laughed. "So in other words it was awful."

"Well, yeah." Kurt put his phone down on the table and took a sip of his Diet Coke. "But don't worry, I already sorted all the pins she dropped _all over the floor_ according to their size, and rerolled all the tape measurers, and also went out and picked up the new flowers for the window displays from the florists, and then went back to the florists when Amber declared that the arrangements were all wrong. Oh, and then I went to the firehouse to take some pictures of the trucks so that Amber would know _just_ what color to use when she makes her own dress for the Firemen's Ball coming up." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Zoe, I'm practically dead on my feet, to be honest."

Zoe gave him a sympathetic look, taking a dainty bite of her BLT on toasted wheat. "That's Amber for you. But that's definitely more work than she usually gives out in one morning. Anyhow, I have the afternoon shift"-she wrinkled her nose in distaste- "so you can head home and get some rest."

Kurt sighed again and tapped his fork against his empty salad plate. "I wish I could, but, alas, I'm meeting the Miss Rachel Berry for coffee. It's her first day off from her show and she wanted to catch up. And by catch up I obviously mean that I'm going to sit in a generic Starbucks for two hours while she talks about all the brilliant performances she's given and tells me off for not actually _going_ to see the show yet…."

"You know," Zoe said, swirling her straw around in her glass of sweet tea, "that's a fair enough question. The show's been going on for weeks, why haven't you gone? I thought you'd be there opening night." She raised an eyebrow in question. "It's a new musical and you're Kurt Hummel, after all."

"Zoe, we've been over this… going to musicals… you know I left music behind in high school."

"But I still don't understand why." Zoe took another bite of her sandwich, dabbing at her face with her napkin.

"I can't… I can't do this right now, okay? Not after this morning, not when I'm so..." He trailed off, his mind wandering back to his senior year and purple pianos, secret kisses, cute puppy plushies….

"So…? So what, exactly, Kurt? Why can't you handle music? Music is such a big part of natural-"

"_Zoe. _I- just… drop it. Please. Drop it." Kurt set his fork down with a clatter and gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. His head was spinning with memories and he pressed his fingertips firmly against the cool glass of the table.

"I- okay. Kurt, I'm sorry," Zoe said. She reached out and patted his hand. "I really am. I know something happened and it's tough for you, I'll leave it alone, my curiosity just got the best of me."

"Yes, I know, it's okay." He shook his head slowly, releasing the table from his vise-like grip.

"But, Kurt…" Zoe paused, looking down at her lap. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it's hard?"

Kurt nodded, giving his friend a small smile. _But only if I can tell myself first._

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"Put the rock down."

Blaine gripped the rock tighter in his hands, stumbling slowly towards the window.

"Put it down now! I said _now, _Cranson!"

Blaine hesitated, chancing a glance at the backlit man standing in the doorway. A look of terror crossed Blaine's face when the man pulled a gun out of his belt, but it was soon replaced with one of steely determination. He lifted the rock to his shoulder, and, planting his feet, hurled it across the room at the man. At the same time a shot rang out and Blaine crumpled to the floor.

"Cut! And print!"

Applause rang out as Blaine grinned and stood up, wiping his dirt-covered hands on his fake-mud-stained jeans.

"Nice one, Anderson." Porter Dupree, Blaine's best friend and cast mate said, approaching him from the doorway of the ramshackle house they were shooting in. A props assistant appeared and took the fake gun from him, picking up the foam rock, too.

"Back at you," Blaine said, punching Porter lightly on the shoulder. "I was half afraid you were really gonna shoot me."

Porter laughed. "I would never! Besides, it was a fake gun."

"True." Blaine checked his watch- it was only seven in the morning. He yawned, remembering his five AM call time, and ran a hand through his hair. "Ugh, I'm beat." He raised his voice and called, "Hey, Paul," to the director. "I can head back to my trailer, yeah?" When Paul nodded, Blaine gestured for Porter to follow him out of the house.

"So, when did _you_ get home last night?"

Grimacing, Blaine replied, "Eleven. But I didn't fall asleep for a few hours."

Porter smirked. "Oh, didn't you? Was Charlie with you?"

Blaine's face turned bright red and he shook his head. "No… actually, I don't think I'm going to see him again."

"What? Why?" Porter turned to face Blaine, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking further. "I thought you guys would be perfect together! That's why I set you up!"

"Yeah, well." Blaine twisted out of Porter's grip and crossed the remaining distance to his trailer, unlatching the door. Porter followed him in and plopped onto the leather couch. "We didn't click."

"How do you know for sure? You only just met…."

Blaine went to his closet and pulled out some grey sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. "Porter, I could tell. _Trust_ me. I mean, I took him back to his house and walked him to the door and- uh..." He trailed off, holding his change of clothes to his chest. "It just wasn't right."

"Wait," Porter said, sitting up and waving a hand, gesturing for him to continue. "What happened at his house?"

Sighing and setting his clothes on the counter, Blaine crossed his arms. "He invited me inside for coffee. I said I had to go, I had an early call time, but he insisted. So we had some coffee, and then he pulled down a bottle of wine and poured us each a glass. We only had like two a piece, and I was fine, but he…."

"Tipsy?" Porter grinned, amused.

"Past. He was _gone_. Again, I said I had to go but he wanted to watch some lame TV show and dragged me over to the sofa. Then, next thing I know, he's all over me." Blaine shook his head in distaste.

Porter's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"And you didn't like him _why, _exactly?"

"Porter."

Porter raised his hands in the air as if declaring his innocence. "I'm kidding, only kidding. Although, heck if I rolled that way I'd give it a shot."

"Oversharing, thank you. Anyway, it didn't feel right. He kissed me a few times and it- no, it wasn't right." Closing his eyes, Blaine tried to forget the awkwardness he felt with Charlie. The way Charlie was so controlling, and… no. Blaine didn't like Charlie, not like that.

Porter stood up and yawned. "I'm sorry, man." He patted Blaine's shoulder. "And I was hoping you two would double with Kenzie and me," he said, referring to his fiancé. A frustrated sigh escaped him and Blaine smirked. "I can't believe there are still four months until our wedding. _So. Long._"

"You two still have a lot of planning to do though," Blaine pointed out.

"Correction," Porter replied. He grinned. "Kenzie has a lot of planning to do. I already finished mine. You're the best man. Done."

Blaine shook his head. "Lazy butt. Now, get out of my trailer so I can take a nap. My next scene isn't till one."

"Aye aye, Cap'n." Porter saluted and headed for the door, pausing with a hand on the handle and turning back around to look at Blaine. "Oh, but a note on the whole best man thing- when you're planning my bachelor's party, remember who it's for. We're not into the same… erm… equipment, if you catch my meaning." He winked, and Blaine rolled his eyes. "I'll see you, and I'll keep my eye out for any studly guys to send your way." He winked and the door banged shut behind him.

"Of course you will, nitwit," Blaine muttered under his breath. Despite Porter's many attempts to find Blaine a guy, he was so different from Porter, so different from even who Porter thought _Blaine_ was, it was hard for him to connect to anyone his friend suggested. Especially since he just compared everyone to…. _No. No, don't think about him._

"Oh well," Blaine said aloud to himself. "Temporary solution: take a nap."

**A/N: So, there's chapter one. :) I hope you guys thought it was alright… I'm hoping the story will get better, I always feel a little more certain about the middle chapters than the beginning ones. In case you didn't pick up on it, Kurt's trying hard to get his name out there in the fashion industry (because we **_**all**_** know how fashionable Kurt is 3 ) and Blaine's a pretty well-known (and by well-known I mean completely famous) movie and television actor! Review if it pleases ya! Thank you! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's chapter 2! I hope you guys like it! It's kind of a filler, maybe, so I apologize, but there are some important steps to the main plot in here, so it's necessary. Also, thanks to my beta reader (ms-pirate-ninja-boss on Tumblr! :D ) **

Blaine left the set around eleven that night, returning to his apartment to shower and eat a quick dinner. Then he tiredly brushed his teeth and fell into bed. He thought he was so exhausted from the ten hour shoot that had started that afternoon, but something kept him from falling asleep. It felt too quiet. Rolling onto his back, Blaine fumbled for the television remote. Hitting the power button, Blaine leaned back into the pillows lined up in front of his headboard, tugging his navy comforter up to his chest. His gaze fell on the flat screen television across the room, the local news playing, but his thoughts continued to wander through the empty apartment.

His apartment in LA was large- large enough for a full family of at least four to occupy- and Blaine lived there completely alone. But that was what he had wanted, wasn't it? To live alone, be independent, make his way in the world? _No_, he realized, _No. I wanted to make my way in the world, yes, and I wanted to be independent from my family, from those who thought they could tell me what to do- I wanted to be able to make my own decisions. But to be alone- no. I want someone to share my life with, but someone who will make it a team effort, not someone who will make one of us more in charge than the other._

Well. That was a rather abrupt realization.

Blaine groaned and buried his face in his hands. It was too late to be thinking deeply about these things: his call time was fairly early in the morning, and they were shooting the scene where his character meets his future wife. It all felt a little cruel to Blaine, that his character be having such a happy moment when he himself had just had one of his worst dates in years and felt more alone than ever. But he had to play the part well, and this was supposed to be a happy scene.

_Okay. Stop. Go to sleep, you're tired._

But just as Blaine was about to slide down into his bed, something on the television caught his attention.

"Life can be lonely."

_Very astute_, Blaine thought bitterly.

"But sometimes, when you meet one person, everything changes."

Blaine knew how that felt….

"We're here to help."

Against his better judgment, Blaine looked up at this. A cute couple was onscreen, arms around each other, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling. They looked happy- no, more than happy. They looked blissful. Blaine couldn't help but long to feel like that, too. To stand next to someone he loved, someone he knew loved him… just once more…. But he hadn't felt like that since that one night so many years ago…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the TV, where the couple turned out to be advertising an online dating site.

_Why,_ Blaine wondered, _would you ever join a dating site? Half the people you meet live across the country, if not the globe, and they have no clue who you really are…. Wait. They have no clue who you really are. _

All of a sudden he was full of energy again, not the least bit tired, and he sprang from his bed to grab his laptop off the desk in the corner of the room. Next thing he knew he was pulling up the dating site and creating a profile for himself, but also not for himself. After all, if everyone knew he was _the_ Blaine Anderson the whole point of this would be a kinda ruined- he was doing this in the hope that he could meet someone and get to know them, and, in return _they_ would get to know _him_. That is, the real him, the him he had trouble showing through his acting, or even his interviews. The him that only his family and closest friends knew.

In his mind it was the perfect plan.

_Okay… name… name… I could be… Lucas! Lucas… last name, last name…_

Blaine racked his brain, trying to think of a last name for his alias. He looked around his room for inspiration. _Pillow. Rug. Floor. Duvet. _No, none of those would work, they didn't sound realistic enough- they were far object-like. _Well, probably because they _are_ objects. But Duvet wasn't too bad, let's just change it a little… Ah, Duvall! Lucas Duvall! _

As he entered the information and added his real birthdate (which he had decided to put on private, so no one would be able to see it anyway) and interests, he realized with a sinking feeling that the site required a picture to create an account.

_Crap._

He obviously couldn't put a clear picture of himself, like the one from his IMDB page- then everyone would definitely know who he was, or worse, think he was some pompous jerk who compared himself to celebrities. No, putting celebrities as your profile picture was only acceptable for things like Tumblr and Twitter, not a dating website. Unless you were a celebrity, in which case, what the hell were you doing on a dating website?

Blaine pondered this, considering canceling his entire application. He had to admit that he wasn't really at a shortage of possible dates- both male and female (the girls were the ones he had to politely decline the most for obvious reasons). _And really, what are the chances I'm gonna find someone anyway?_ But he squared his shoulders and opened his picture files to try and find one that would work.

No, he didn't want one of him looking straight on… and his whole family was in this one, but he was still clearly visible…. He considered one of him sitting by the pool at Porter's house, an umbrella casting a shadow that covered the majority of his face. His hair, though, made him all too recognizable.

_Ah. Perfect. _The mouse pointer hovered over a picture of him with Tambo, his brother Cooper's black lab, sitting in the grass. A baseball hat covered his signature curls and his black Ray Bans shielded his eyes from the bright San Diego sun. His clothes didn't resemble his own wardrobe- mostly because that was the day he had fallen in the giant mud pit in the construction area around Cooper's apartment complex and was therefore wearing his brother's too-long athletic shorts and slightly-too-big New York Giants t-shirt. It didn't show his usual stylish, dapper wardrobe, but that could work for him- he really didn't look like himself here. All the better for his ploy, he figured. Blaine double clicked and uploaded the picture.

"_Profile Complete."_

Blaine smiled to himself before setting his laptop on the floor by his bed and finally falling asleep.

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"Rachel, I have to go- I can't even believe we've been out this long." Kurt checked his watch and his eyes widened. "It's almost three AM! Don't you have a show tomorrow?"

Rachel Berry set down her glass of Merlot and waved her hand as if to shoo away her friend's worries. "Yeah, but not until eight at night, I can sleep in."

Kurt made a face at her. "That's all good and well, but I can't. I'm supposed to be at work at nine tomorrow- oh, sorry- _today_ and Amber's a total witch if we're late." He paused and swirled his own wine around in its glass before taking a tiny sip. "Well, more than she usually is."

"I don't understand why you work for her, honestly. You could do so much better, Kurt."

"Better than the best tailor in the city? And one of the biggest fashion icons on top of that? Tell me how and I'll do it." He put his glass down pointedly. "Anyway, I've been with you since early afternoon and now it's almost three… I think I should get paid for this."

Rachel hiccupped, covering her mouth with her hand and giggling. "Oh, 'scuse me! I haven't really had a lot of wine lately… or alcohol at all. And what's this about getting paid? You get to spend time with me, isn't that enough? I haven't seen you in far too long, you haven't come to see the show… speaking of, how's your, um, dating life going?"

Kurt stared at her, wondering how that segue was supposed to work when switching topics from _her _Broadway show to _his _non-existent love life, but deciding in the end not to question it. "It's not. But-" he continued, holding up a hand when Rachel tried to speak, "I'm okay with that. I'm focusing on work, goodness knows Amber gives me enough to think about."

This time it was Rachel's turn to stare, only her gaze was offset by a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Oh, Kurt."

"…What?"

"I… okay, promise you won't get mad-"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt interrupted, "You know, whenever you say that I just get the _feeling_ that I'm not going to be a happy person for much longer."

"-but I may have maybe signed you up for a dating website." Rachel peeked out from under her bangs at him, smiling sheepishly.

Kurt's mouth dropped open. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Rachel shook her head.

"_RACHEL."_

"Hey, calm down, don't- don't freak out, okay? I just- you seem so _lonely_, Kurt, and I just wanted to help you-"

He slapped the table loudly. "By signing me up for an online dating site? Everyone on those things seem hopeless and alone and-and pathetic! How could that _possibly _help me?"

"You… you could meet someone?" Rachel's voice was low, quiet, a little sad.

"I don't.…" Kurt stopped. He looked up at his friend, his _best_ friend, the one who'd been with him through everything since high school. "Okay, Rachel, okay." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand. "I'm not… I'm not mad. I get that you were trying to help me. But how soon can I delete it?"

Rachel smirked and covered his other hand with hers. "Oh, you can't. I'm not giving you the password."

Kurt's right hand dropped back to his lap and he pulled his left out from under hers. "What? You can't be serious. You're gonna pretend to be _me? _On a datingwebsite?"

Rachel nodded, her smile widening. "That pretty much covers it…. Oh, and I also listed you as gay. Hope that's okay." She was positively beaming now.

Kurt let out a small laugh despite himself. "Yeah, that's- okay, yeah."

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The next morning, Blaine woke up early, shivering. He cracked open his eyes and realized his comforter was nowhere to be seen. He dangled his arm over the edge of his bed and felt the soft fabric in a pile on the floor. Slowly pulling it back onto the bed, he remembered his late night foray into the world of online dating. He grinned groggily before gripping the edge of his laptop and lifting it, too, onto the bed.

He looked at his alarm clock and saw that he didn't have to actually get up for work for half an hour, so why not check out this new site, see who could be out there?

Flipping up the lid, Blaine waited for his laptop to log in, and then he pulled up a web browser and typed in the dating site. He grinned when he saw that his profile had gotten three views- it had only been up for a few hours, after all- and began his own search.

As he clicked through the list of men the dating site had conjured for Lucas Duvall, he scanned their pictures, still grinning. One of them had deep green eyes, and another had the most charming smile, and… oh.

_Oh._

Blaine stared at the next candidates picture for a minute, taking it in. The perfectly styled chestnut hair, the small, barely-there dimple, the shining ocean-like eyes… it was all so… familiar.

Hesitating, he clicked on the man's name and waited as his profile page loaded. When it did, he browsed through the interests and hobbies, likes and dislikes, and then glanced back at the picture. His breath caught in his throat. Yes, it was all definitely too familiar now.

_Maybe…_

With a speed that could easily be matched by a snail, his finger directed the mouse to the little envelope at the top of the webpage.

_Click._

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"Rachel, oh my god, what do you want?" Kurt rubbed his eyes, taking a sip of his non-fat mocha latte as he walked to work. "We were together literally all day yesterday."

"I know, but- Kurt."

"Hmm?"

"Uh, your page got a hit. On the dating site."

Kurt blushed a little. Someone had checked out his page. "Oh?" he replied a little haughtily.

"Yeah, actually," Rachel said, sounding satisfied and a little proud, "you got a message."

Now Kurt couldn't help it- he was getting a little excited. _Maybe this will work after all! _ "I did, did I? Who from? Is he cute? Nice? Gentlemanly?"

"Ah…." Rachel paused again. Kurt's pace slowed a little. He was getting just a _tad _nervous with all of this pausing his friend was doing.

"Oh no," he said, his heart sinking. "It's spam, isn't it? Or worse, it's some huge overweight bear living in Nebraska…."

Rachel laughed a little, and he heard her tapping on a keyboard. "No, Kurt, it's nothing like that… it's just, I'm looking at his profile, and _Kurt,_ you have got to see this. He's interested in half the same stuff you are, and his message was just _so_ sweet."

Kurt checked his watch, his pace picking back up when he realized he was about three minutes from being late to work. "Well, I can swing by after work if that's good for you… I get off at about one today."

"Yeah, that sounds perfect. _Wow_, Kurt, this guy really seems to be something. But I won't answer his message until you get here. Just listen to his name though- Lucas Duvall. Isn't that just so handsome?"

Chuckling, Kurt thought Rachel seemed even more excited about this whole man-for-Kurt possibility than he himself did. "That is completely handsome, Rachel, such a name." He was patronizing, sure, but just a bit. Lucas really did sound like a fine fellow, if the way Rachel was talking about him was any sign. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

**A/N: So I hope that worked out okay…. If you guys have any questions or anything my Tumblr is curlywitheyepatch! :) Review if it pleases ye ('cause it most certainly will please me! :)**


	3. Chapter 3, Part 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's an update for now… it's a bit short, so I apologize, but it's been a long week and I haven't had as much time to write as I had hoped for and I wanted to get this up. Thank you SO SO SO much to everyone who subscribed and reviewed and alerted- it meant so much to me, especially since this is my first go at this, so really, thank you :) This is just Part 1 of Chapter 3, hopefully part 2 will be up around the middle of this week, but it might not be till Friday. Sorry in advance!**

**Hope you enjoy this- thanks to my beta ms-pirate-ninja-boss (check out her tumblr, yo!) :)**

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_From: Lucas Duvall_

_Hey, there! _

_I was looking at your profile - in the least creepy way possible - and couldn't help but notice that we share a lot of interests and likes._

_Wow. There's really no way to make that sound not creepy, is there? Although, now that I think about it, these websites are just kind of creepy altogether, which is kind of making me rethink sending this message. I should at least hit backspace by this point, anyhow, and start over. But I don't think I'm going to. It's not that I don't think you're worth it; I just don't want to hide who I am. _

_Crap. This message is terrible. I have no idea how these introductory messages are supposed to go, or what I'm supposed to say, but I have the feeling that I'm not doing a very good job here. . ._

_I'm sorry. I hope you forgive me, I'm thinking that this is even more painful for you to read than it is for me to write it. I'll understand if you don't reply to me, but I kind of hope you will. No, wait, not kind of. I completely want you to, but, you know, I'll understand if you…_

_Okay, I'm going to just say good-bye before I make myself sound even more moronic than I already do (which could prove to be difficult, actually…). Anyhow, I hope to hear from you soon!_

Rachel giggled as Kurt finished reading the message from Lucas out loud. "Oh, isn't he just the cutest, Kurt?"

He does sound kind of cute…

He smiled at his friend. "Yes, Rachel, his awkwardness is positively endearing."

"We actually found it endearing."

Where did that come from?

"But before I choose to respond, I would like to take a look at his profile, so…?"

Nodding, Rachel leaned forward and clicked onto Lucas' profile. "Oh, of course you do! It says he likes fencing and boxing – I checked it out this morning, obviously – and his favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird… Kurt? What's wrong?"

Kurt had gone still, looking at Lucas' picture. He didn't normally find guys in oversized athletic attire attractive, but somehow, Lucas made it work. His burgundy Converse All-Stars looked worn but still decent, in good shape, and his ankle socks were argyle, Kurt noted, so maybe, with practice and Kurt's help, he could learn to take pride in all of his clothes the way he did his footwear… And the way he was lounging casually on the ground – something Kurt had trouble doing himself (imagine if his brand new Marc Jacobs sweater got grass stains!)- with his arm around the large dog next to him was kind of… hot. His baseball hat covered his hair, so Kurt couldn't see it, and his sunglasses blocked out his eyes, but Kurt was willing to bet they were both beautiful and intelligent.

There was something a bit… familiar to it all. Something that resembled something Kurt had once known. He couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it was definitely there. Lucas' pose, the way he looked so at home in his own skin, no self-consciousness present. The grin spread across his face like summer – calm, relaxed, but at the same time blindingly bright and a little unbelievable.

Kurt's mind reeled as he tried to identify just why it all seemed so… the same.

"Are you okay? Kurt?"

The squeeze Rachel gave his shoulder shook him from his thoughts.

"Sorry," he said, not looking at her. He couldn't tear his gaze from the man on the computer screen. "I'm just…"

Rachel smiled, letting go of his shoulder and taking his hand in hers. "I know, he seems amazing, right? I would say I told you so, but we both know I'm not that kind of person…"

Finally, Kurt turned to her, smirking a little. "We do?" He squeezed his best friend's hand to show he was teasing. "I'll admit that you seem to deserve that chance, but if I may, can I ask that you hold off until I've actually had a sort of conversation with this man?"

"Okaaay," Rachel fake sighed, rolling her eyes. "I suppose that's acceptable. I'll bite my tongue for now."

Kurt grinned. "Thanks. So…"

"Ooh!" Rachel squealed, dropping Kurt's hand and doing a little dance in her seat. "Now do we reply?"

He nodded, still smiling, until Rachel pounced on him. She wrapped him in an excited hug. "Ooof!"

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

"Great job in today's scene, Blaine," Paul said, nodding in the actor's direction as he headed off to a golf cart, his personal assistant trailing behind him. Blaine smiled his thanks and started towards the parking lot. They had finished shooting for the day a lot earlier than they had dared to hope, and Blaine decided to spend the day running necessary errands to the grocery store and dry cleaners before heading to the gym.

Blaine's phone vibrated and he patted his pockets as he walked, looking for it. Finally he found it in the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled it out, hoping it was his email that had sounded the alert, and not another text from Porter asking him if he was free for a blind date on Saturday, because Kenzie's best friend's mother had a brother with a poker group buddy who had a gay son. Porter's set ups had been getting more and more ridiculous. He arrived at his black Nissan Altima Coupe and clicked it open before unlocking his phone.

His face broke into a boyish grin when the screen lit up and saw the alert from the dating site in his inbox:

"_You have received a message from Kurt Hummel!"_

Blaine shut his eyes for a second; took a deep breath. He was a little overexcited, and he floundered to get some grasp on reality before he read the email.

_Holy crap, he replied. He actually replied! I didn't think he'd reply, not to me of all people, not after-_

He cut himself off abruptly, smacking his head in realization. He sank into the leather driver's seat and leaned back, losing the short-lived adrenaline burst that had come with the thrill of hearing from Kurt.

_But he didn't reply to me. Not to me. Not really. He replied to Lucas. He has no idea that Lucas is… that I'm… that we're the same person._

But seeing Kurt again- even if it was just a picture (an insanely adorable picture, Blaine thought)- had done something to him. He had worked so hard to forget his first boyfriend, forget everything they'd once had; the quick pecks on the cheek between classes, the celebratory twirls after winning a glee competition, the afternoons spent just lazing around watching bad reality television and cuddling on the couch. As soon as a picture of that very boy had popped up, though, Blaine's resolve cracked. And the memories came pouring back in, along with new images, visions of them sitting on a beach blanket by the Pacific Ocean, Kurt looking as spectacular as he always had as Blaine spread sunscreen (Probably SPF 100, he thought. He always got sunburned so easily) on his back…

He was desperate, he realized. Blaine was desperate for some sort of communication with this person who had been so important to him, and he was so desperate that he didn't even care if Kurt knew it was really him or if Kurt thought it was a two ton elephant sitting behind a massive desktop typing with his trunk. Or, rather, he cared, but Blaine knew that if Kurt knew it was him there was no way he would get a response. Or a response that was even remotely friendly.

Sighing, Blaine took another breath and poked the touchscreen, opening up the email. As he read Kurt's message, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Whether Kurt knew it was really his ex-boyfriend or not, his email rapidly stabbed at Blaine's heart until it was nothing but a pudding-like mush.

_To: Lucas Duvall_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Hello!_

_Don't give it a second thought- that's what we all signed up for when we joined this site, right? The purpose is to meet people, and how else are you supposed to meet people?_

_I'm glad you seem to be so honest! I don't want to hide who I am either; that's no way to begin a relationship at any level (who is the creepy-sounding one now, hm?). So I propose we play twenty questions and get to know each other. Let me know if that sounds okay to you!_

_I don't really know how to reply to these (okay, this- yours is the only one I've gotten- look, I'm being dreadfully honest already, aren't I?) messages any more than you think you know how to write them._

_And here I am responding!_

_-Kurt_

Blaine read it over a few times, and then groaned, running his hand over his face. One line in particular tore him apart:

"I'm glad you seem to be so honest! I don't want to hide who I am either; that's no way to begin a relationship on any level."

_Damn it._

Why, oh why, had Blaine included the "I just don't want to hide who I am" part in his first email? Why? That was exactly what he was doing, and now Kurt wanted to play questions when Blaine was totally trying to hide who he was, both the celebrity part of him and the part of him that used to be Kurt's love.

No, that wasn't a part of him, that was him, whole and complete.

And that made it even worse.

**A/N: So yeah, like I said, shorter than the previous two being only part one of Chapter 3, because I wanted to get something up. :) As of now I'm thinking I'll update around the weekends. In case that's not vague enough for you. ;) Probably Sundays, but maybe some Saturdays. Heck, maybe some Fridays. Or Mondays. But definitely one of those four. XD Thank you so much for reading! Review if it pleases ye (because it will certainly please me!) :D**

**Note on a review from **mumimeanjudy: **Whoops, that was *not* supposed to happen. O_o Thank you so much for pointing it out! (Cranson was Lucas' last name originally, but I liked Duvall better, so… yeah.) Sorry for the mistake!**


	4. Chapter 3, Part 2

**A/N: Howdy, peoples! :) I'm so so so sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I feel bad, especially because I just started the story and then made all you kind souls wait. :( Please forgive me, things have been extremely hectic around here, but it should hopefully be calming down and updates **_**should**_** be more regular…. This chapter has a flashback, just so you know, and don't get confused or anything. :)**

**I hope ya'll like this chapter- it hasn't been beta'd yet, but it'll be edited sometime, so many thanks to my beta ms-pirate-ninja-boss (check out her tumblr, it's awesome!) :)**

**Also, I always forget this, so, just in case you might have thought otherwise, I do not own **_**Glee**_** or any of its characters, not baby Blaine or dearest Kurt or Rachel or anyone else. If I did, I would never let them graduate and the show would be completely unrealistic. :)**

_To: Kurt Hummel_

_From: Lucas Duvall_

_You are far too kind. I'm glad that you didn't find my message as awkward as I myself did!_

_I like your idea of twenty questions; shall I go first?_

_My question is…_

_ If you could have any animal for a pet, what would it be?_

_I think I would pick a lemur, just because they're so cute. Their eyes! Their tails! Adorable. Or maybe an otter for the same reasons. _

Blaine chewed his thumbnail, reading over the email again. He wondered fleetingly if playing twenty questions was a wise decision- surely Kurt would ask some questions that could potentially give Blaine away, if not by themselves, in collection- but he decided he would cross that bridge when he came to it. The appeal of talking to Kurt was too great for him to think too hard about the risks.

Before he could stop himself, Blaine hit the send button and closed his eyes. There was no going back now- he'd have to answer whatever question Kurt sent him as honestly as he could. He owed him that much. Even if he wasn't honest about his identity, he could be honest about_ him_- what he thought, what he liked- and hope he didn't reveal himself in the process.

_Luckily my life and I have changed a lot since high school,_ he thought. He had grown, stopped gelling his hair (his stylist just made him wash it out anyway), taken acting classes, moved to LA, and, much to his surprise, landed a lead role in his first film, a smash hit, which rocketed him to stardom.

Blaine was proud. He had initiated, accepted, and embraced all of these changes. He had no regrets.

Except for one.

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

"Blaine, I did it! I made it!"

Blaine smiled as Kurt ran to him, arms open. Kurt threw his arms around his neck and Blaine picked him up, spinning happily. Kurt's mortarboard flashed red in the corner of his eye, the 2012 pendent dangling alongside the tassel. Kurt pressed a quick kiss to his mouth as he was set back down.

"I'm leaving McKinley and never looking back!" Blaine watched, his smile fading slightly, as his boyfriend turned in a circle, hands in the air, eyes closed, and head tilted to the sky. Kurt twirled back to Blaine, his hands falling to his sides. "But of course I don't really mean that. I'll wait a _little_ longer to completely detest this place. After all, my favorite classmate still has a year until _his_ graduation." He winked and tapped Blaine's nose. "But then you can come to New York with Rach and I and we'll live the good life!" He paused to grab his boyfriend's hand and lead him off of the football field. "Well, as good a life as we can afford as full time college students. Now come on, let's get out of here, I have to change for Quinn's party." Kurt was beaming, and Blaine found himself grinning back. It was nice to see Kurt so happy- Blaine knew that, even while they were happily dating, his boyfriend still had moments of insecurity and there were still bullies at school, still family crises, still worries about the future. But, for the moment at least, all of those things were put out of mind.

They wandered into the parking lot, hand in hand, and weaved through the crowds of new graduates, all of them holding flowers and balloons and posing for pictures with family and friends. They got to Kurt's Navigator and slid in, Kurt carefully pulling his mortarboard off his head and setting it in Blaine's lap. "Here, keep this as a memory of the day my hair was ruined and I didn't even care." He peered into the rearview mirror, his nose wrinkling as he smoothed back the front of his chestnut mane. "Well, hardly cared."

Blaine laughed and gripped the mortarboard. "You look perfect, as always," he said, pulling Kurt's hand away from his hair and lacing their fingers together. "I am _so_ proud of you." He kissed his knuckles, and Kurt's cheeks reddened. "But are you sure you don't want to keep this?" Blaine held up the graduation cap in his free hand. "It's a big day for you- you might want to remember it with this."

Kurt brought a hand up to Blaine's face and cupped his cheek. "No, I want you to have it. It's a big day for both of us- we're one step closer to New York together. And I can't wait." He leaned in and captured Blaine's lips for a soft, delicate kiss.

"I love you," Blaine breathed as they parted.

"I love you, too." Kurt smiled and stroked his cheek. "So much."

One more chaste kiss and Kurt turned the key, pulled out of the parking lot, and started the drive home, his hand linked with Blaine's, sitting on the console.

Blaine squeezed his boyfriend's hand and closed his eyes, trying to remember it all; the coolness of Kurt's palm, the way his slender fingers fit in the spaces between his _so_ perfectly, the softness of Kurt's moisturized skin as Blaine stroked his thumb over his knuckles. He breathed deeply.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes fluttered open as Kurt glanced at him, smiling. Oh, he had the _most_ beautiful smile.

"Memorizing," Blaine replied, smiling back.

"Oh, Blaine, we still have all summer together before-"

"No," Blaine interrupted quietly, his heart thudding. "We don't."

Kurt's smile fell for a second, but he gathered himself and pasted it back on his face. He glanced again at Blaine. "What?"

"Kurt, we… we don't."

"What do you mean? Of course we do. I don't leave in August, that's over two months-"

"I leave in two weeks," Blaine whispered.

At this Kurt let go of his hand and gripped the steering wheel hard. He signaled and shifted lanes before pulling onto the shoulder and pulling the key out of the ignition. His hands fell to his lap and he turned to face Blaine. "Wh-what?"

Blaine swallowed, trying to blink away tears. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. This wasn't supposed to happen on the side of the road, this wasn't supposed to happen on such a happy day, not yet. Kurt wasn't supposed to find out now, not like this. "I- I, uh-" he stammered.

"Where… where do you think you're going?" Kurt asked, his tone urgent and voice shrill. He stared at Blaine, his hands shaking, and tears pooling in his eyes.

Blaine squeezed his own eyes shut. _Just say it,_ he told himself. _Let it out- you might as well._ "California," he whispered so quietly he could barely hear himself.

"What?" Kurt said just as softly.

"I-" Blaine opened his eyes, focusing on the mortarboard on his lap, the tassel being twisted around his fingers. He couldn't look at Kurt, couldn't see his boyfriend, the one he loved, falling apart in front of him. He couldn't see that and _know_ that it was his fault. "I'm going to California."

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

Kurt grinned when he opened his email that night to find the message from Lucas. He read over it, giggling more than he would like to admit when Lucas called him kind and then again when otters came up. He quickly typed out a reply.

_To: Lucas Duvall_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Haha, I'm going to save this message- let's hope you continue to think I'm too kind, eh? I've been known to be a bit snarky. If it comes up, please don't take it personally._

_If I could have any animal I think I would have… a bird. At a school I went to there was a glee club and the newest member had to take care of a bird. I might've pretended to dislike him at times, but really, that bird was adorable. I loved taking care of him._

_Okay, my question is: What is your favorite magazine? Trivial, yes, but I feel like it's important. Mine is Vogue, no competition. _

Hitting the send button, Kurt closed his eyes, a smile still gracing his face. He was having far more fun than he could have imagined talking to a man he met on a dating site. True, they had only just begun talking, but Kurt felt like there was something there. A connection, one he hadn't felt with another person in years.

_Don't jinx it, you never know where this could lead,_ Kurt chastised himself. _Don't get ahead of yourself._

But even so, he couldn't help but picture himself with Lucas (of course, Lucas' face was a bit of a blur- his profile picture surely did nothing for him) strolling through Central Park, watching the birds and squirrels, sipping coffees , sharing biscotti, and holding hands. He imagined feeling totally at ease in Lucas' company, being completely comfortable just lazing around the house on a Sunday afternoon watching trashy reality shows on the television and flipping through gossip magazines. It had been so long since he'd just felt _comfortable_ around a guy.

_Take it slow, _he thought again. _Don't scare him away. Finding someone is hard, but who knows? Maybe Rachel was right to sign me up for this site. _

**A/N: So I know that even this is rather short, but I promise that I'll try and update sooner with a longer chapter. Please forgive me for making you guys wait so long! I hope you liked the chapter, please review if it pleases ye, because reviews always make me happy! :D Thank you for reading!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: So to make up for that extra-long break I took while updating the second part of Chapter 3, I've tried writing Chapter 4 a little quicker, but I wanted to make it good too. I feel like this story is sort of stuck right now- the characters need more progress! The thing is, it has to be at least somewhat realistic too, and I think both Kurt and Blaine are too smart and have too hard a time trusting people (especially Kurt) to rush into any relationship, let alone one started online. So I'm sorry if it seems slow- it does to me too- but it'll pick up, I promise. :) **

**Also, this chapter's a tad short, and I'm really really sorry- things have been crazy with final projects and stuff for school, but summer break is nearly here and then I can really get rolling with this story! Weeee! :D**

**I wasn't sure how to end this chapter, so thanks to my beta ms-pirate-ninja-boss for helping me out! :) **

"Blaine, they're ready for you on set!"

Looking up from his laptop, Blaine glanced at the door of his trailer as if he could see through it to the production assistant he knew was standing on the other side. "Coming," he called. He closed the lid to his Mac, sighing. No new email from Kurt today. But Blaine knew Kurt was probably busy- he couldn't believe that his ex-boyfriend would let anything but his biggest dreams come true. No, Kurt Hummel was probably in high demand on Broadway (Blaine didn't really keep up with musical theatre at all anymore; as far as he knew Kurt could've won a Tony or two) or in the fashion world.

As Blaine was stepping out of his trailer, phone in one hand, he caught site of Porter walking past and yelled his name. His friend paused and waited for him to catch up. "Hey Anderson," Porter greeted him. "You ready for this scene?"

Blaine grinned and nodded. "Oh, definitely. But I hope you know that Charlie can kick Redson's butt anywhere, abandoned house or courtroom."

Porter laughed good naturedly. "That's just how the script's written. You and I both know that if this were real Charlie would be dead meat. At least in the abandoned house, especially if it came to a fist fight. That Charlie's real scrawny and kind of a shrimp." He patted Blaine on the head, smirking.

"Charlie also boxes, so Redson better watch himself."

"Oh no, now he's terrified."

"Shut up, you-" Blaine trailed off when his phone dinged in his hand. He unlocked the screen and an email popped up.

_New Message from Kurt Hummel._

An unavoidable smile spread across his face.

"Ohohoho, who's this Kurt Hummel, hmm?" Porter asked, staring over Blaine's shoulder. "Someone I should know about? Someone I don't _want_ to know about?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, tapping open the email. "Oh, grow up. He's… uh…" He paused, not sure how to finish that statement. He couldn't very honestly say that Kurt was just a man he met online, but should he just be open and tell Porter that he had been in love with Kurt? That now he's trying to reconnect with Kurt? That Kurt has no idea it's really him? That if he's being completely honest with himself, he's hoping to maybe get Kurt back, to win him over, before he even realizes that Lucas is really Blaine?

Blinking as he fully realized _why _he was so set on talking to Kurt again, Blaine didn't notice when Porter waved his hand in front of his face. "Blaaaaaine. Hey, Anderson, wake up." When Blaine continued to look dazedly into the distance, Porter stepped firmly on his foot.

Blaine yelped, startled, and bent down to rub his toe. "Ow, Porter, that hurt." He made a face.

"Well, tell me who Kurt is. And hurry up about it, we have to be on set, like, two minutes ago."

Sighing, Blaine nodded. "Okay, okay. Kurt is… an old friend."

"Oh. Well that's not nearly as exciting as I was hoping it would be, so thanks for that whole anti-climactic, dramatic pause and foot stomping thing. Good thing you're the actor and not the writer, because your screenplays would suck."

"Gee, thanks."

"Just sayin'."

Blaine grunted, scrolling down and reading Kurt's email. He laughed when Kurt brought up his snarkiness, remembering the comments Kurt used to make, the sarcasm that used to flow from his lips though it was never aimed at Blaine.

"What?" Porter asked, trying to peer over Blaine's shoulder again.

Blaine stopped walking, causing his friend to walk into him. "No," he said, dropping the hand holding his phone to his side. "You are not reading my emails over my shoulder."

"But-"

"No."

"…fine."

"Go, I'll catch up."

Porter stuck his tongue out at Blaine and turned, walking away. "You better hurry to set, Paul's not gonna be happy if you're much later, you freakin' diva."

Blaine waved him on, lifting his phone back to his eyes and reading the rest of Kurt's email.

_If I could have any animal I think I would have… a bird. At a school I went to there was a glee club and the newest member had to take care of a bird. I might've pretended to dislike him at times, but really, that bird was adorable. I loved taking care of him._

"I loved taking care of him."

Blaine closed his eyes. Suddenly he was back at Dalton, hurrying into the Warbler room, looking for Kurt. He had seemed so worried about Pavarotti in his text, something about the bird seeming under the weather. Blaine knew he was probably just molting, losing his feathers for the season before growing in new ones; he had taken care of Pav around the exact same time the year before.

Kurt looked so relieved when Blaine had told him that what was happening with Pavarotti was totally normal, letting out a breath and smiling happily. He really had cared about that bird; Blaine had been able to tell that much, even from that moment.

His certainty about that was only cemented when…

_Kurt trudged into the Warblers meeting out of uniform- a fact that could earn him about 20 demerits if he got caught by a teacher- and dressed from head to toe in black (though, of course, still looking completely stylish the way that he always did), breaking the news to the troupe of a capella singing boys. Pavarotti had passed- a suspected stroke- and Kurt wanted to dedicate a song to him. He handed a tape off and the Beatles' Blackbird started playing. Blaine looked at his hands folded in his lap as Kurt gazed across the room, his eyes distant._

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night..."_

_Blaine lifted his head, blinking. That voice…_

"_Take these broken wings and learn to fly."_

_All the other Warblers began harmonizing with Kurt, solemn "oohs" filling the room._

"_All your life…"_

_Blinking again, Blaine averted his eyes from the boy in black. He'd heard Kurt's voice before- there was his audition for the solo at regionals with Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, and the practice with Blaine for Baby, It's Cold Outside at the King's Island Christmas Spectacular- and he had always found it amazing. But for some reason, at this very moment, it was better than Blaine had ever heard it. There was so much buried in his tone, in his voice, in his inflictions. So much raw emotion, so much sadness. Blaine felt it flooding the room much like the tears were flooding Kurt's eyes before they spilled over and began running down his cheeks. Seeing Kurt cry, Blaine could barely hold back his own tears. He shifted in his seat, trying to identify the warm, bubbly feeling in his heart. _

"…_you were only waiting for this moment to arise."_

_**Love.**_

**:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:****-****:**

Kurt leaned on the counter next to the cash register at Amber's shop, flipping through the four page letter his boss had left him. She was gone for the day at a new stylist's fashion show, and Kurt was managing the shop alone. But even though he had no customers coming in, he had no downtime, Amber made sure of that.

"_Find the bobby pin Zoe dropped yesterday around the sofa. We can't have random trinkets lying around the shop."_

"_Go to the florists and make sure they have a dozen red roses waiting for me when I come back. Don't pick them up yet, just make sure they have them."_

"_Vacuum the front room after you find the bobby pin, and then vacuum the bottom of your shoes. You probably stepped in something on the way back from the florist- this is the city, and you're not the best at watching your step."_

Kurt couldn't help but take personal offense at the last one- as if he didn't keep all his clothes in perfect condition, least of all his shoes. He sighed, setting the pack back on the counter and heading to the sofa to search for Zoe's lost bobby pin, rolling his eyes. He had just knelt on the ground when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and grinned when he saw the screen.

_New Message from Lucas Duvall._

He unlocked it quickly, covering his mouth, slightly embarrassed when a happy giggle escaped his lips.

_I didn't even think of that, a bird. Birds are great, I used to have one, too. Loved that little guy, he helped me meet some new friends. I guess birds are just good ice breakers, eh? ;) As for my favorite magazine… I do enjoy Vogue, so I might agree with you there. But I also like classic TIME magazine. They have some great special issues._

_Next question: Favorite board game? Personally, I like Trivial Pursuit- Especially the Disney Edition. Fantastic._

_I hope you have a good day today. :)_

Kurt bit his lip to keep a smile from tearing his face in two. Lucas just kept getting better and better; he appreciated Vogue (and thus obviously fashion, Kurt decided) but also wanted to keep up to date on current events or politics in the world. So he had a serious and studious side, but he loved Disney's Trivial Pursuit, so he was also a bit of a goof, apparently.

_Oh yes_, Kurt thought. _Lucas could be something special. _

Suddenly Kurt's day was looking much brighter.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Gah, I'm awful at updating regularly, aren't I? Please bear with me, I'm working on it, I swear. And thank you so much to everyone who has written a review (or more than one! Thank you sooooo much!)- I love reading them, and even more, I absolutely love knowing people are actually looking at this little story I'm writing… I have lots more planned for this story, it's just the pulling it all together coherently that's taking some time, but it'll get there, I swear. Don't give up on me just yet. :)**

**Many thanks to my beta ms-pirate-ninja-boss for being completely and totally awesome!**

**Read away!**

_To: Lucas Duvall_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_You know what else are good ice breakers? Giant polar bears. Get it? Because they weigh a lot? Oh god, I can't believe I just made that joke. How lame can I get?_

_Respectable magazines, I see. Favorite board game? Are you actually making me remember the last time I played a board game? I… I think it was Pictionary, so for the sake of actually answering this question, let's say that that's my favorite, okay? My drawing talents are unequaled by anyone I've yet to meet- mostly because they can all draw better than me. _

_My question: Favorite book. I like Tale of Two Cities, but you can never go wrong with a nice Shakespeare play or romantic easy-read. _

_I had an okay day- it was a lot better after getting your message. _

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_To: Kurt Hummel_

_From: Lucas Duvall_

_Oh my god, I love it. Lame jokes are the best, and never let anyone tell you differently. _

_Why thank you. Pictionary's a pretty great game, too, and I am one hundred percent positive your drawing abilities streamline mine. I can't even draw a smiley face without it looking demented._

_Tale of Two Cities? Not bad, but a little too boring for me- I prefer To Kill a Mockingbird, if you're going classic literature, or Harry Potter, which, to me, is also classic literature. _

_Question of mine: Favorite superhero? Good ol' Superman for me, I think. _

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_To: Lucas Duvall_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_I try to be witty more than lame, but sometimes it can't be helped. Glad you appreciate it. :) _

_I'm sure you're exaggerating and I refuse to believe that a simple smiley can look all that demented._

_Tale of Two Cities is the opposite of boring! It takes place right during the French Revolution! There's a lady with a hit-list! How much more exciting can you get?_

_Superheroes, huh? Probably… Spiderman. Not that I like spiders- I don't, I hate them- but he is a pretty cool superhero with some cool powers. Peter Parker's not bad either. ;)_

_Next question: Favorite food. I favor chicken parmesan, preferably with a side of steamed vegetables, maybe some cheesecake for dessert._

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_To: Kurt Hummel_

_From: Lucas Duvall_

_I'm sure I'll appreciate your wit as much as I do your "sometimes" lame jokes, then. :)_

_Oh, you've yet to see my smileys though. They are quite evil looking... I occasionally feel like they should be locked up. Or maybe my hand should just be broken so I can't create them anymore._

_No. Dickens goes on for literally pages describing anything and everything that does *not* move the story onward. That, my friend, is what we call boring._

_I have to agree with you there, Peter Parker does have his moments... _

_Favorite food, okay, I can do this. Maybe I can't. Kurt, why did you have to ask me this, I don't think you understand- I love food. But I'm gonna have to go with... maybe...pizza? Or sushi. Sushi is good._

_My question: Phone number? :) _

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_To: Lucas Duvall_

_From: Kurt Hummel_

_Well, I certainly hope so. :)_

_I still don't believe you, I hope you realize this. And I will continue to not believe you until I actually see one of these smileys._

_It sets it all up! It makes the action even more riveting and the story even more heart-wrenching! The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Lucas. Come on._

_Yessir, he does._

_I was a little disappointed by pizza, but then I thought, well, maybe he doesn't mean the delivery-grease-covered-heart-attack-acne-causing kind. Maybe he means, like, gourmet pizza. Sushi's a better answer though._

_Oh, suave, Mr. Duvall, very smooth. But fine, since you asked so nicely... {cell number}_

_What do you do? Jobwise, I mean. I work in fashion, for a custom tailor. _

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_To: Kurt Hummel_

_From: Lucas Duvall_

_No need to hope. :)_

_Then I'll just have to send you a picture, won't I? Just wait, you'll see._

_No. If it hadn't been required reading I never would've read it. At least, I wouldn't have finished it. And I never put down a book I'm in the middle of, but this would've been an exception._

_I thought so. :D Great, I'll text you and then I can bug you there too. ;)_

_And I work in the entertainment business. But it's not as big a deal as it sounds when someone says that, really. Tell me more about your job though; a custom tailor? Does she work you hard? Like in The Devil Wears Prada?_

**A/N: So, a little short, but, again, necessary. This is the last slooooow chapter, I feel like. I hope you guys like the next one I'm working on… not sure when it'll be up, but hopefully it won't be long.**

**Any questions (or if you just want to pester me, or, better yet, fangirl over Chris and Darren and White Collar (yeah, Matt Bomer ;) with me, my tumblr is curlywitheyepatch. :D**

**Review if it pleases ye! :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **_Okay. It's been a while since I've posted, and I am sincerely sorry. Summer hasn't brought the free time I'd been hoping for, at least not yet, but we'll see what lies around the corner, yeah? Not to mention I fell horseback riding the other day, even after having physical therapy for an injury, and I've just been so sore. XD_

_Anywho, happy belated July 4__th__, also, to all those in the US of A, and happy belated Canada day to all our friends up north. :) _

_I present to you Chapter six of my humble story- thank you so so for reading, and all of you who have reviewed! I love you!_

_**Disclaimer: **__I keep forgetting this, but in case you thought I was one of the lucky and talented souls working/owning Glee, you are sadly mistaken. I own but a dream. _

The days melted into weeks which slid into months. Kurt got a small bonus at work after helping Amber locate some especially rare and expensive gold and ruby button, and Blaine finished filming his movie. Their emails slowed, but their texting was rampant and constant, the multitudes of typed messages bouncing off satellites out in space and back to earth and the boys' cell phones, reflecting the great distance between the two.

Kurt was loving the constant messaging with Blaine, or, as he knew him to be, Lucas. He felt like he could talk about anything, be it work, friends, family, or just life in general, and Lucas answered sincerely and kindly. He did, however, wish that every once in a while Lucas was up for talking on the phone. But Kurt kept receiving odd excuses from his friend- either he was in a meeting and really shouldn't be texting but was so _bored_, or that he was on his way to a press obligation, or, most recently, that his earpiece had busted and he couldn't upgrade his phone until his prepaid plan ran out in a couple months.

Blaine, on the other hand, was growing tired of lying to Kurt, not only about his identity, but also about his job and coming up with constant fibs about why he couldn't actually _talk _on the phone (and, as an added precaution, he had also changed his voicemail to the automated one, causing confusion among his friends, family, and colleagues). Attending red carpet events, visiting talk shows with Porter to sell their new movie, and constant photo shoots were also taking their toll on him. He was only staying sane by drinking copious amounts of coffee and texting Kurt. Who didn't even really know it was really him. It depressed him a little bit every time he thought about it.

One day in late March, Blaine was lying on the plush sofa in his LA apartment, phone in one hand, television remote in the other as he flipped through the channels on his flat-screen. It was a rare morning where he had no obligations, although he did have another red carpet event to attend that night. His phone buzzed and he lifted it to see a text from Kurt.

_I don't understand how one woman can have so much insanity in her. I'm surprised there's any left for the rest of the world. _

Blaine laughed. He knew by now that Kurt was talking about Amber, his "overbearing, callous, insensitive, _Devil Wears Prada_" boss.

_That bad, huh? There's definitely plenty of insanity left for everyone else though- and I'm pretty sure half of it settled here in Tinseltown._ Blaine hit send before turning his attention back to the old mystery movie playing on his TV.

His phone buzzed again; Kurt had replied. He slid his finger across the screen to open the text.

_Worse. She practically split my head open this morning when she threw a vase across the room. Apparently the silk that was dropped off for her this morning was folded "irresponsibly." But it was still in its plastic packaging, what was I supposed to do? And that might be true, but then the other half is here in NYC, more specifically Amber's shop._

Blaine read the text, cringing at the vase incident, and then laughing about the silk. He could just picture Kurt handing the package over to Amber, then taking a defensive stance when his volatile boss blew a fuse. How he wished he could be there in New York, to, if Amber really had hurt his former boyfriend, comfort Kurt, to help keep _him_ sane the way Kurt had unknowingly done for Blaine.

And then he remembered; he was flying out to New York in two weeks for press purposes for his movie; he was going to be on a smattering of morning talk shows, having a few more photo shoots, and, maybe attending a few Broadway shows. If he was lucky, Kurt would even be with him.

Oh, how Blaine wanted to go to Broadway shows with Kurt. It had been their dream- no, their future- forever, up until that one day. That day when it all fell apart.

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"You're... You're what?"

"We're- my parents and I- we're going to California," Blaine said, pulling tight on the tassel wrapped around his finger; he tugged until the tip of his finger turned white.

Kurt wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What, for the summer?" He took Blaine's hand in his own, pulling it free of the tassel. "To visit some family? Doesn't Cooper live in LA?"

Blaine swallowed. He could feel his own hand turning clammy in Kurt's cool palm. He really didn't want to have to have this discussion. "Uh, yeah, Coop lives out there, but- Kurt, you remember when Cooper came to visit?"

Kurt nodded. "Of course."

"And- and he was all excited about that new audition he had gotten, the one for the Michael Bay movie?"

Nod.

"And when the casting agents changed their minds, canceled his audition, he and I made a video-"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted, squeezing his hand. "I know what happened then; tell me what's happening now. Please."

Blaine nodded. "Right. Um, well, Coop didn't get the part." He paused, not able to hold back a small chuckle at Kurt's expression of mock surprise, before continuing on at a faster speed, his words tripping over each other. "But he sent in an 8x10 of me, too, and apparently the casting department liked me because they gave me a call back to meet me and then they casted me and now I have a part in a Michael Bay movie." He took a deep breath and glanced up at his boyfriend, nervous for his reaction after noticing Kurt's grip on his hand had become significantly less tight.

Kurt wasn't looking at him. Instead he was staring out the window at the narrow strip of grass that ran alongside the road, the row of small trees that was planted there. Two birds flitted in and out of one of the trees, carrying twigs and leaves in their beaks. Building a home, Blaine guessed. For a family. Together.

After a few moments Kurt turned to Blaine who immediately shifted uncomfortably and stared at his lap but didn't pull his hand from Kurt's.

Kurt tried to meet Blaine's eyes, but the honey-irised boy kept his cast down.

"Blaine," Kurt began. Still his boyfriend did not look up. "Blaine, look at me." When there was no movement Kurt squeezed his hand again before bringing his free one up to hold Blaine's chin, gently turning his face so their eyes could meet. Kurt smiled slightly. "I love you. And I am so proud of you." He kissed him gently. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut as he tried to commit this moment, too, to memory. The way Kurt smelled like cologne and hair product and himself, the way his palm cupped Blaine's cheek so perfectly, the way his thumb stroked the tender spot under Blaine's eye when they kissed... Blaine took it all in.

Kurt pulled back after a long moment, but still Blaine did not open his eyes immediately. He was still lost in the kiss. Kurt laughed softly. "And I am *so* happy for you." He kissed Blaine's nose. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? When was the callback?"

Slowly Blaine opened his eyes, a large image of Kurt filling his vision as he leaned over the console, eager to know the details of Blaine's casting.

"Um... April," he said hesitantly.

"April?" Kurt repeated, frowning. "Wait, was that when you told me you had to go to a family reunion?"

Blaine nodded, eyes apologetic.

"Blaine, why didn't you tell me the truth?" Kurt asked. His eyes were sad and he was still frowning; hurt.

"I... It wasn't a complete lie- I saw Cooper, and he's family." Kurt rolled his eyes at this so Blaine hurried on. "But mostly I didn't want you to know because I was sure I wouldn't get the part."

"But you did!"

"Actually, I didn't. Not that part, at least."

"What do you mean? You just said you were in the movie."

Blaine shifted again, his hand still clasped in Kurt's, and sighed. "I got a different part. A... A bigger part."

"Oh, Blaine!"

Kurt threw his arms around him, and Blaine forced a chuckle as Kurt giggled happily. "That's great! Fantastic!" He paused, pulling back and staring at Blaine, a grin still spread across his face. "So- what's the deal? You film this summer? No big deal, I'll fly out to see you a few hundred times and then you'll be back home before you know it and we can spend the rest of the summer together before school starts in the fall."

*He looks so excited,* Blaine thought. *How can I do this to him? It'll kill him- just like it's killing me.*

Blaine looked over at Kurt who was humming happily under his breath, staring once again at the birds still building their nest, an excited smile on his face.

"It's not that simple, Kurt," Blaine finally said. Kurt stopped humming and looked at him, brow furrowing in confusion. Of course it was that simple. He needed it to be that simple.

"It's not a single movie- the, erm, contract I signed was for a multi-movie deal."

Kurt's face fell. One movie, one summer apart he thought he could cope with... But how was he supposed to deal with more than a year on opposite sides of the country? "How many?"

"As of now... Three."

"And you... You have to be in all of them?"

Blaine paused. "I- Kurt, that bigger role I was talking about- it's actually, um, a lead."

Kurt blinked.

Blaine braced himself.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Tear.

Blaine was surprised to see a drop making its way from the corner of Kurt's eye down his cheek. He made to wrap him in a hug, but Kurt leaned away from him, shaking his head.

"How- how long?" he sputtered, tears coming more freely.

Blaine knew exactly what he meant. How long would the movies take. How long would the two of them live on opposite sides of the country. How long would Blaine's career split them up.

Blaine breathed, "Two years minimum."

Kurt sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, tears falling consistently. "So more like three," he said dejectedly.

Blaine sighed. "Yeah."

"Blaine, I-" Kurt stopped. He squeezed Blaine's hand once more before dropping it. "Maybe you should-"

"Don't say it. Please, please Kurt, don't say it." Blaine squished his eyes shut.

"I-"

"I know what you're going to say. 'Blaine, I think you should go.' But, Kurt, I can't. Please, don't make me, I can't." Blaine opened his eyes and reached a hand up to touch Kurt's face, to make him understand. He had to understand. "I know I'm going to California and you to New York," he continued, feeling Kurt's tears under his fingers and suddenly becoming aware that he had tears trailing down his cheeks as well, "but I really, really just need to be with you right now."

All of a sudden the door opened and he felt a cool breeze. The door was shut soundly. Then, Kurt was gone.

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Taking a deep breath, Blaine weighed his options. He could let Kurt know that he, or, rather, "Lucas" would be flying out to the city to do some press work, and then reveal his true identity there, or he could keep it to himself, head out to New York, and hope that maybe he ran into Kurt accidentally, or just… not see him. Not yet.

But Blaine didn't think he could take being in the same city, or even the same _state_ without at least seeing Kurt. Hell, he could barely stand being in the same _country. _ So, without letting himself think about it too much more, he composed a text and quickly sent it off.

_Hey, it turns out I'm heading to NYC in a couple weeks for some movie stuff… could we possibly meet?_

The answer was instant.

_Yes._

**A/N: **_So there you have it, Chapter Six. I hope you liked it- I thought it went pretty well. :) Please, let me know what you think- reviews are the best presents you can give fanfic writers, and don't you forget it. ;) _

_I'm going to try really REALLY hard to get the next chapter posted soon, hopefully this weekend, I swear. Reviews will make me even more likely to post. ;D_

_Also, feel free to check out my tumblr- the URL is now rainyblaine, and my twitter handle is writer_gem, if you want to check that out as well. :)_

_Thanks again for reading! YOU are awesome!_


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **_Hey, everyone! I hope this update finds you in good health and good spirits. (So I sound like a Hallmark card every once in a while, deal with it. ;) I told you that I would try to update this weekend, so here ya go! It's still technically the weekend for at least a few more hours, at least where I am. :)_

_This chapter hasn't been beta'd (actually, neither was the last one. Hehe) because my beta's been pretty busy, but I hope you enjoy the chapter all the same!_

_And, disclaimer, neither Glee nor any of its characters belong to me, and actually, while we're talking about this, I don't own The Devil Wears Prada either. I only own the first two seasons of Glee on DVD and stacks of CDs and paperback novels!_

_Everyone who has alerted and reviewed- thank you so much, you have no clue how much it means to me. It made me want to write this chapter even faster. :)_

"Okay, this is the best Caesar salad I've ever had. Kurt, why haven't we come here before?" Rachel asked, lifting another forkful of lettuce to her mouth.

Kurt glanced at Zoe, who raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her sweet tea. He had been having lunch with his coworker, like he did most every day, at their usual café, when he got Rachel had called, stating that she simply needed to show him something immediately. He reluctantly told her the address of their café as Zoe rolled her eyes, and just minutes later the Broadway diva had arrived, sitting at her table and inviting herself to join them for lunch. She ended up getting so caught up in the new eatery that she seemed to have forgotten all about whatever it was she was so desperate to show Kurt.

"I come here a lot," Kurt began, twisting off a piece of his breadstick, "and it never really struck me as the kind of place you'd like."

"Nonsense," the brunette girl scoffed. "It's so quaint and cute, not to mention peaceful and utterly relaxing!"

Zoe snorted. "It used to be."

Rachel aimed a glare at the other girl and opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say a word Kurt butted in. He was tired from his morning shift with Amber, who, per usual, worked him like a dog. "Rachel, what was it you wanted to show me?"

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up and she dropped her fork onto her plate, clapping her hands together. "Look. At. This." She reached down by her feet for her large red Kate Spade purse, lifting it onto the table and pulling out a tabloid. She set it down in front of Kurt, who moved his plate of spaghetti out of the way just in time.

The tabloid was a cheap locally printed thing, and the price at the top said it cost only ninety-five cents. As Zoe peeked around her plate, and Rachel's giant bag, which was still sitting atop the table, his eyes flitted around the cover, landing on what he figured Rachel must have been freaking out about. At the bottom right, there was a small picture of his friend crossing the street, arms linked with a taller man who was wearing a blue hoodie and a beanie. In the picture, Rachel's mouth was open as if she were in the middle of speaking, and the man next to her was looking down at her and smiling softly.

Kurt looked across the table to see the real Rachel staring at him, a smile stretched wide across her face and her hands clasped together in excitement. "Isn't that awesome?" she practically squealed.

"Definitely, Rachel," he replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zoe raise her pupils to the sky, as if praying for the power to get through this lunch. He stepped firmly on her ballet flat-clad foot and she scowled at him before turning her attention to her chicken salad croissant and new issue of _In Style_. "But who's the guy in the picture?"

"Oh, that's Theo," Rachel answered, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. She took the tabloid back and carefully returned it to her bag, which she then pulled off the table. "He's in the show with me. Which, I mean, you would _know_ if you ever came to see it…." She trailed off then, giving him a pointed look and picking back up her fork. "We might be sort of dating. There's actually a little blurb inside the tabloid, talking about just that, but only speculating."

"Does Finn know?"

"Kurt, who cares? We're not engaged anymore, we're not even dating- why would I tell him?"

Zoe muttered under her breath, saying something that sounded suspiciously like, "Better him than us."

Kurt ignored her and shrugged, sliding his plate back to the center of the table. It was true that after Finn called off the engagement and shipped Rachel to New York, the two had gone their separate ways. They had never really reconnected the way everyone thought they would, but Kurt knew it still bothered Finn. After being step-brothers for nine years, Kurt could tell when Finn was upset by something, and he knew it wouldn't be long until Finn found out about this and called him to chat, "casually" mentioning Rachel and asking how she was….

Kurt half expected his phone to start ringing any second now, but that didn't mean he was any less surprised when it actually did.

He dug it out of his pocket, glancing at Rachel, who, much to Zoe's dismay and annoyance, was still rambling about Finn and how he wasn't even in her life anymore. Kurt was relieved to see that it was a text from Lucas.

_So, how was your morning with your own personal Miranda Priestly?_

Laughing, Kurt typed out a reply, nodding and letting an "uh huh" or "sure" in response to Rachel's comparison of Theo to Finn and how the former was clearly better for her emotional and mental health.

_Same old, same old. She made me restock the cash register today, but only after thinking I miscounted the first time and making me recount everything twice. And also she spilled a bottle of wine on the carpet and somehow twisted it around to make it my fault. She said she's going to take the fee for the cleaner out of my paycheck, but I think it's an empty threat._

"Kurt."

Hitting send, Kurt looked up to find both Zoe and Rachel staring at him. "What?"

"Was that Lucas?" Rachel asked, smiling.

Blushing, he nodded.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't have even asked, Rachel. He's been texting no one else for months."

"That's true."

"Not even me."

"Me, neither."

"I'm surprised they haven't actually talked on the phone yet."

"I'm surprised they haven't set up a time to meet yet."

"I'm surprised they haven't set their wedding date yet."

"I'm surprised-"

"_Girls," _Kurt said loudly, setting his phone on the table. It immediately began to vibrate with a new text and he smacked Zoe's hand as she reached for it. He picked it back up and held it on his lap. "We haven't just been texting- we've made some progress." Kurt turned to stare icily at Zoe, and added, "But not to the point of _marriage_, thank you."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at him as Zoe giggled. "Okay, spill, Kurt," she said, leaning on the table in eager curiosity.

"Yeah," Zoe agreed, nodding, and she, too, leaned in. "What progress?"

Kurt fiddled with his phone, looking seriously first at Rachel, then Zoe. A grin burst across his face and he said, quickly, "We're meeting," before pressing a fist to his mouth to smother the squeal threatening to escape his lips.

Zoe's eyes widened and she grabbed his hand and shook it excitedly. "Kurt! That's great! You must be so excited!"

Rachel beamed at him, bouncing in her seat. "What? Do I get to meet him?"

Looking incredulously at the other girl for a moment, Zoe opened her mouth, letting out a "Why do-" before apparently thinking better of it and stopping herself. Instead she turned back to the boy sitting on her other side, asking, "When are you two meeting, Kurt?"

"A little less than a week!" he said, lifting his phone from his lap. "He texted me and said he was going to be in the city for movie promotions, and asked if we could meet, so of course I said yes!"

"This calls for a celebration!" Rachel said, standing up and lifting her to bag to her shoulder. "I have to go buy some wine or something and then I'll come to your apartment, okay?" And with that she was off.

Zoe stared after her, frowning. "What _is _wrong with her? She didn't even finish her salad, let alone _pay _for it."

Sighing, Kurt said, "That's Rachel for you."

"Inconsiderate?"

"Self-considerate."

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"Hey, so Blaine, what do you think?"

Blaine turned from the clothing rack outside his and Porter's dressing rooms. He found his costar leaning out the door to his dressing room wearing gray slacks, a black button up shirt, and a red tie. In his hand was a black fedora, which he flipped onto his head as Blaine looked him up and down. "Nice," Blaine responded. "You'll probably look way better than me, because I can't figure out what I'm supposed to wear." He sighed, running his hand through his hair, and mumbled under his breath, "Kurt was always so much better at this."

"What's that?" Porter asked, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Nothing," Blaine said. He found a black vest on the rack, right next to a white button up shirt. Not too far down were some black slacks. His mind flitting back to the night of Kurt's senior and his junior prom, Blaine pulled the articles of clothing off the rack and held them up. Maybe….

"That's not a bad outfit, go for it," Porter said. His voice shook Blaine from his reverie, and he nodded.

"I think I will." _ But not for the reasons you think._

"Of course, you're still not going to look as good as me… I mean, who could?" Porter smirked, looking in the mirror next to the rack and straightening his tie. "You might want to add a tie or something, but I think it'll do."

"Gee, thanks."

"Don't mention it. Now go get changed, they need us out there soon."

Fifteen minutes later Blaine and Porter were standing in front of a red backdrop, which made Porter's tie pop and Blaine's outfit look sharper than it had when he was putting it on. He had rolled the sleeves up and left the top few buttons of the white shirt open, mimicking the look Kurt had sported nearly a decade before.

The photographer moved around, taking pictures from multiple angles. Blaine and Porter stood, arms crossed, next to each other. Blaine moved to put his hands on his hips, and Porter raised one hand and rested his chin on it before pushing his hat back and scratching his head.

"These things never get more fun, do they?" he asked.

Blaine looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What do you suppose would make it better?"

"I don't know… music, chicks, food, chicks."

"Porter, your engaged," Blaine reminded him, rolling his eyes.

"I'm allowed to look."

"You're disgusting."

"Don't blame me that you're forever single," Porter retorted, earning him an intense glare from his friend. "Too far?"

"What do you think?"

"That's good! Keep glaring, Blaine!" the photographer said, snapping one picture after the other.

"Wasn't planning on stopping."

Porter made a face, and Blaine raised his eyebrows at him before he heard Perfect by P!nk playing in his pocket. He instinctively reached for his phone, but stopped, looking at the photographer.

The woman sighed, lowering her camera. "Go ahead," she said. "We'll take a twenty minute break, and you can answer your phone and have your make-up retouched."

"Blaine, you hear that? You need more make-up," Porter sniggered.

"I meant you, Dupree," the photographer called as she walked off. Blaine snorted and fished his phone out of the pocket of his slacks. His face broke into a smile when he saw it was Kurt, something that Porter didn't fail to notice. He snatched the phone out of Blaine's hand, turning around quickly and opening the message as Blaine let out a shout of surprise.

"Hey, Lucas, what day are you coming into town? There's this really nice café we could meet at, but they're closed Sundays," Porter read out loud. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned back to Blaine, who was shifting uncomfortably. "Who's Lucas?" He tapped the contact name. "Kurt Hummel? Isn't that the guy you said was a friend in high school?" Blaine nodded slowly, biting his lip. "Did you really know him?" Blaine nodded again. "This isn't a wrong number then… are you pretending to be someone else?" When Blaine didn't answer, Porter frowned. He held out the phone. "Blaine? You are, aren't you?"

Taking the phone, Blaine stammered, "Not- not _really_."

"What do you mean?"

"I- I just- It's a long story." _And I really don't want to tell it,_ Blaine added to himself. Saying it out loud, that would be admitting that he was lying. That would be admitting that he was wrong for doing this, for lying to Kurt, for fooling him. But it would all be worth it when they got back together, right? It would all be okay and the outcome would excuse the less-than-honest path Blaine took to get there. It made sense in Blaine's head, yes, but would it in Porter's? Or, more importantly, Kurt's?

Porter gave him a blank look. "Well," he said, "You have, like, fifteen minutes. So get to it."

Blaine sighed before relenting and telling Porter the whole story. At the end, Porter stared at him, mouth slightly open in wonder.

"Wow," he said after a long moment.

Blaine fidgeted with his phone; he still had not texted Kurt back. "What?"

"You-" Porter stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are…."

"Porter?" Blaine asked nervously.

His friend sighed before dropping his hand back to his sighed. "I'm sorry; I don't even know where to start. Blaine, for someone so smart you sure are stupid."

"What do you-"

"You really thought lying to him would win him back? Really? Out of all the ways to go about this, you thought pretending to be someone you're not would be the best? What in the world were you thinking?"

Blaine opened his mouth, but no words came out. Apparently, no, it did not make sense to Porter. And it probably wouldn't to Kurt either. Finally, he forced himself to form some kind of sentence.

"So… what do I do?"

Porter sighed exasperatedly. "Call it off. We'll go to New York, and maybe you'll run into him as yourself. Get rid of Lucas. Try contacting him as _you._"

"But he won't respond!" Blaine cried out desperately.

"You don't know that. And think about the story you just told me- what happened the last time you lied to Kurt?"

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Kurt trudged down the side of the highway, hugging his arms across his chest and his gaze on his feet. The flashes of crimson caused by his graduation robe fluttering around his shins barely registered through his tear-blurred eyes. He focused on even breaths and placing one foot in front of the other.

He had feared this would happen- he had spent countless nights worrying that he and Blaine would break apart but hoping with everything in him that these worries would be fruitless. Kurt knew when he left for New York it would be hard; a long distance relationship, halfway across the country, relying on weekend visits, Skype chats, and phone calls. But now that Blaine was headed to California, they would be twice as far apart, and as far as Kurt was concerned, staying together would be twice as hard.

He truly was happy for Blaine, really. After all the crap he'd been through before Dalton and at McKinley after and the issues with his brother and his parents... Blaine really deserved something like this. And Kurt couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that Blaine had not only gotten a part in the movie that his egocentric brother so wanted to be involved in, but a lead role.

But still... California? Was Ohio not far enough from New York?

_It's like he wants to make this difficult for me,_ Kurt thought fleetingly, but then he shook his head. That couldn't be true. Kurt loved Blaine and he knew Blaine loved him in return. This would hurt him just as much as it hurt Kurt; it would be just as hard on the both of them. Wouldn't it?

_If anyone asks,_

_I'll tell them we both just moved on._

_When people all stare_

_I'll pretend that I don't hear them talk._

_Whenever I see you, _

_I'll swallow my pride_

_And bite my tongue._

_Pretend I'm okay with it all-_

_Act like there's nothing wrong._

Blaine sat huddled in the passenger seat, biting his lip, trying to slow his breathing. He had to be calm when Kurt came back, had to be able to make sense of everything and be rational.

But he knew that this wasn't going to go the way he had hoped. He looked in the rearview mirror at Kurt's receding back as he walked away, and a tear slipped down his cheek, followed at first just by one, but then by streams of salty sadness.

Kurt was, quite literally, walking away from him.

_But_, Blaine thought, _he kept his promise_. _He didn't say good-bye._

No, instead he had just left Blaine sitting there, watching the seconds turn to minutes on his wristwatch, checking the rearview mirror for any sign of Kurt's return, sighing when he realized that he had disappeared from view. Yes, he had left Blaine crying in the car on the side of the road, but he hadn't said good-bye.

And that made it even worse.

_Is it over yet? _

_Can I open my eyes?_

_Is this as hard as it gets?_

_Is this what it feels like to really cry?_

_Cry…_

Kurt took a deep breath and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, pausing in his walking. _I really should go back,_ he thought. _Blaine didn't deserve me just walking out and leaving him there... We can figure this out together, right?_

He turned and slowly started back for his car, a little surprised when he saw the great distance he had walked.

As he trudged back to the car, he tried hard to stay positive. _Long distance relationships can work_, he reminded himself. _We might even come out better for it, stronger. _But he knew even the plane rides that could take them from California to New York, the Skype calls, the texting… they wouldn't replace the trips Kurt had imagined himself taking, flying home to Lima, stopping by to see his Dad and Carol before heading over to Blaine's, whose parents would be out of town until Monday for some business retreat…. And even that, if it had worked out, wouldn't replace the good old days of high school and sitting in first the Dalton commons and then the McKinley choir room, catching each other's eye, holding hands, kissing whenever they felt like it, just enjoying being close.

Kurt reminisced, rubbing the back of his right hand, tracing a memory of held hands in an empty room on top of a table covered with Tacky glue. He knew finding a way to make this work would be anything but easy.

_If anyone asks, _

_I'll tell them we just grew apart._

_Oh, what do I care_

_If they believe me or not?_

_Whenever I feel_

_Your memory is breaking my heart,_

_I'll pretend I'm okay with it all,_

_Act like there's nothing wrong._

Blaine took one more look into the rearview mirror, saw Kurt heading back towards the car, wringing his hands. Blaine straightened up in his seat, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. This was it, they could have the talk now. He folded his hands in his lap, mulling over his words in his head. What could he say that would make Kurt understand?

_Is it over yet?_

_Can I open my eyes? _

_Is this as hard as it gets?_

_Is this what it feels like to really cry?_

_Cry._

Kurt arrived back at his car but could not bring himself to open the door and climb back in. He just didn't want to face the future yet; he couldn't have the talk he knew Blaine would insist on them having, though he knew it would probably be best if they did.

No, instead he leaned against the trunk before sliding to the ground, not even noticing his nice slacks and red robe hitting the dirt through the sparse grass as he buried his face into his hands, pulled his knees to his chest.

_I'm talking in circles,_

_I'm lying, they know it,_

_Why won't this just all go away?_

Kurt never was sure how long he sat there, eyes closed and pressed to his hands. He didn't notice the cars whizzing by on the highway, barely registered the rain that started to fall, turning the dirt beneath him to mud and flooding the road. The only thing he really knew, the only thing that he took into account, was the sound of a car door falling shut behind him, feet creating _squish squish, squish squish_ sounds as they stumbled through the mud, and the back of Blaine's black blazer, streaked with rain and fading into the distance as the distance increased between them. That and the realization that Blaine never looked back, never turned, never waved. Nothing.

Kurt blinked as more tears sprung into his eyes. His breathing was shallow as he whispered into the rain. "Good-bye, Blaine."

_Is it over yet?_

_Can I open my eyes?_

_Is this as hard as it gets?_

_Is this what it feels like to really cry?_

_Cry._

_Cry._

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Wine was being poured into two glasses in Kurt's small apartment kitchen by Rachel when Kurt's phone vibrated on the counter.

"Hey, your phones ringing!" Rachel called to her friend who had stepped into the bathroom to fix his already perfect hair. He dashed into the room, causing her to laugh and spill a few drops of wine on the white countertop. "Oops," she giggled, reaching over to the sink for a paper towel. "There, good as new," Rachel said after wiping up the spill and depositing the now burgundy towel in the trashcan.

"I…"

"Want some wine?" Rachel asked, grinning and holding a glass out for him. When Kurt didn't respond, or even acknowledge that she had spoken, she set the wine back down. "Kurt?"

His face was pale, and his mouth was agape as he held his phone in both hands.

"Kurt, what happened?" She rounded the counter to put an arm around his shoulders. He looked at her, confusion and tears shining in his eyes, and held his phone up wordlessly. She took it from him and read the short text on screen.

_Not coming after all. Sorry. I think maybe we should end this._

**A/N: **_BUM BUM BUM. A gentle cliffhanger for you folks. :) The song was Cry by Kelly Clarkson (which I also do not own). I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter- it's the longest one yet! I'll try to update soon! Much love! (And also, if you feel like reviewing, why, that'd just be awesome.)_


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__I'm such a slacker, guys. I feel really bad about updating so irregularly, and I'm really sorry. I know saying "life got in the way" is no excuse, but it's the only one I can offer. I'm sorry. :(_

_Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter… let's welcome back my awesome beta, ms-pirate-ninja-boss on Tumblr! :)_

_I don't own Glee or its characters or any of the music I use in this chapter, though it would be nice if I did, because that would mean I had some success in life. XD_

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"Kurt, are you okay?" Zoe leaned across the café table, scooting her cup of coffee to the side with her elbow. "You've barely said a word in the past hour and a half, and usually you're overflowing with stories of Amber and Lucas."

Blinking blankly, Kurt lifted his head from where it had been resting on his fists, clenched in front of him. He had dark lines under his eyes, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and the corners of his mouth were turned down into a frown. "Sorry."

Zoe's brow furrowed in confusion. "Don't apologize, just tell me what's wrong. You were so happy yesterday about Lucas, so what happened?"

Sighing, Kurt reached into the leather messenger bag hanging on the back of his chair and, after digging around for a moment, pulled out his cell phone. He slid it across the table without a word.

His friend picked up his iPhone, a little confused, and turned it on. The lock screen popped up. "What's your passcode?"

"Five-four-five-three." Kurt's tone was listless, but his face had flushed bright red. If Zoe noticed, she didn't say anything, and Kurt was grateful. He might have made the passcode during the months when he and Lucas had been relentlessly emailing and texting and he couldn't bring himself to change it just yet. It had only been a day, after all.

Zoe tapped in the numbers and watched as the screen popped open, displaying a picture of Kurt and his father standing in front of a huge poster for _Wicked_, both grinning happily. "Um, what am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Messages," came the sad, tired reply.

When, with one poke of a finger, the messages screen popped up, Zoe immediately saw what had put Kurt in such a melancholy mood. "'Not coming after all. Sorry. I think maybe we should end this,'" she read, then looked at Kurt in disbelief. He had put his head face down on the table and was rubbing the back of his neck. "Is he being serious?"

She could barely make out Kurt's reply, muffled and quiet. "Yeah, I think so." He sighed again, picking his head back up and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I texted him a few times this morning and got no reply, and he deleted his profile on the dating site. I don't know why, I don't know what I did or- what did I do? Did I do something wrong?"

His mind flitted back to the texts that had followed Lucas' announcement, a once-sided conversation that had kept him up much of the night. "_Are you serious?" "Lucas, what happened?" "I don't know why you've decided this, but I hope you're okay." "I don't really understand, did I do something?" "When you're ready to talk, I'm here." _He unconsciously shook his head, tryingto forget and shake the embarrassment that comes with feeling clingy but unable to stop yourself from sending just _one _more text, just because there is still a grain of hope that the receiver will respond.

"Oh, honey." Zoe set the phone on the table and pulled Kurt's left hand from his face, covering it with her own. "You didn't do anything wrong- all you did was talk to him, and be nice to him. If he's going to set you up just to drop you again, just to cause you pain, he's not worth it. And it's his loss, Kurt, because you are one of the nicest, smartest, strongest, and most honest and caring people I know." She searched Kurt's face, sighing when she saw the tears beginning to fall from his cerulean eyes. "There's more, isn't there?" When he nodded, she lifted her cup of coffee to her lips with her free hand and took a sip, nodding at him to continue.

Kurt leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his right hand. "It's just… it's been years since I've had an actual _relationship_ and… I guess I was just thinking- no, I guess I was just _hoping_- that this would actually, maybe, be one, you know?" He kind of waved his hand around as he talked, trying to help Zoe understand the extent of his hope. "Maybe I'm just getting desperate."

"You are not." Zoe set her coffee down and patted Kurt's arm. "It's understandable that you got excited; people always do when something seems like it could be, forgive me for this, the start of something new."

Chuckling in spite of himself, Kurt pulled his hand back from Zoe's and picked up his phone, turning to drop it back in his bag. "I'm going to forget you just quoted _High School Musical_and instead say thank you for being such a good friend. I would love to stay here all day and chat, but, if I'm not mistaken, you have to get to work," he said, checking his watch, "right now. Because you have five minutes to get to Amber's, and it's at least ten minutes away."

Zoe downed the rest of her coffee at once before she, too, got to her feet. She waved off his worry with her hand. "I can be late once."

He stared at her, shaking his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Amber will dock your pay," he said, as if uttering a warning.

Raising and eyebrow and planting her hands on her hips, Zoe stared at Kurt. "Does it look like I care?" She smiled when he shook his head. "I'll just tell her I had more important things to do and then hope she doesn't fire me. Oh, shut up, I'm kidding," she added when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "But I guess I should get going. If you need anything, call me, 'kay? I'll see you later." Zoe pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his cheek.

"Bye, Zoe," Kurt said, patting her back. "And thank you."

"Don't mention it, Hummel," she said, starting to walk away. "And change your passcode!"

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Blaine was packing for his trip to New York when his phone vibrated the first time. He sighed before picking it up, swiping open the screen and seeing a text from the last person he wanted to receive one from; Kurt.

_Are you serious?_

Blaine bit his lip. It was so, so tempting to reply- to just send a message back and say that, no, he wasn't serious, that he never wanted to stop talking to him, and that, hey, by the way, this Lucas guy he'd been talking to was really his ex-boyfriend who was just sort of lying to him, but maybe would he like to get back together?

But then Porter's words from the day before popped into his head. _"Call it off. Get rid of Lucas."_

Porter was right. Blaine turned his phone on silent and tossed it onto his bed before running his hands through his hair. _Just one more day, _he thought. _ One day, then I'll be in New York and I can find him. I can find him and make this right. _

Anxiety temporarily quelled, the actor returned to his closet and pulled out a few casual shirts, which he folded and placed in his rolling suitcase on top of his socks, shoes, jeans, and underwear, and then lifted a few dress shirts off the rack, sliding them into a hanging bag with some slacks. He went back to his closet one last time to retrieve his suits and a few ties. As Blaine flipped through his suits, he analyzed each one. He had bypassed getting a stylist all these years, instead choosing his outfits by himself. If he were being completely honest, he would admit that he had taken this route not only because he had only ever trusted one (besides his mother when he was very young) very special and stylish person to choose his clothes, but also because he had hope that _maybe _that person would be willing to help him once again one day, and preferably sooner rather than later.

There were two navy suits, one with wide lapels, one with slimmer ones. He ran his fingers over the buttons of a gray pinstripe suit, one he had just gotten and had never worn before, and lifted its hanger off the rack. He could definitely wear it to the red carpet event he was attending in the city; the only problem was that it hadn't been tailored yet. There was always the chance he could find a place to alter the suit in New York….

_That's it._

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"Yes, ma'am."

"You _do _know why Zoe was late yesterday?"

"Yes, I do."

"Would you care to explain it to me?"

Kurt licked his lips nervously as Amber's green eyes aimed a piercing glare at him. "I was having some… personal problems, Amber, and she-"

"Should've left you alone and gotten to work on time," his boss said firmly, cutting him off. "I docked her pay for the week, and she has you to blame. Come to think of it, I should dock yours, too."

"But Amber, we-"

"Nope, it's too late, it's done. Now," Amber said, turning on her heel and stalking to the back room, tossing over her shoulder, "sweep the floor and organize the threads by color and thickness."

"I- yes, ma'am."

Sighing as Amber crossed the threshold, Kurt got the broom from the corner behind the cash register and crossed the store to start sweeping on the far side of the room and work his way backwards. He had just started swinging the broom back and forth, singing a Katy Perry song that had been playing on the Subway that morning under his breath subconsciously.

"_Summer after high school when we first met_

_We made out in your Mustang to Radiohead._

_And on my eighteenth birthday, _

_We got matching tattoos._

_Used to steal your parents' liquor_

_And climb to the roof,_

_Talk about our future_

_Like we had a clue._

_Never planned that one day_

_I'd be losing you."_

Kurt moved across the room, feeling his spirits lift as he sang. Even if the song wasn't a particularly happy one, he enjoyed the sensation of having the words pass easily through his lips, prewritten and arranged, one less thing in life that he had to puzzle out for himself. Add that to the fact that he hadn't just _sung_ in so long, and he was in heaven, even if his singing voice was a little scratchy from being underused. That is, as long as he forgot that his pay was temporarily docked and the man he thought he might be in love with after just a few short months had basically cut him off.

Yeah, it was better to forget that.

"_In another life, _

_I would be your girl._

_We'd keep all our promises,_

_Be us against the world._

_In another life,_

_I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say_

_You were the one that got away._

_The one that got away."_

Kurt, putting all his soul into this personal performance, didn't notice when the door opened and a customer stepped inside. The man was carrying a hanging bag over his shoulder, and stopped just after sidling quietly over to the counter so as to not disturb Kurt.

"_I was June and you were my Johnny Cash._

_Never one without the other, we made a pact._

_Sometimes when I miss you,_

_I put those records on,_

_Whoa._

_Someone said you had your tattoo removed._

_Saw you downtown, singing the Blues._

_It's time to face the music;_

_I'm no longer your muse."_

Still unaware that he had company, Kurt began dancing, shaking his hips in time to the music playing in his head. The man standing at the counter raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, slightly amused, but even more turned on.

"_But in another life,_

_I would be your girl._

_We'd keep all our promises,_

_Be us against the world._

_In another life, _

_I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say_

_You were the one that got away."_

He was just holding out the wavering notes in the next line when he added a spin to his dance, with the broom still clenched in his hands. Kurt had spun halfway when he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and he planted his feet, the note dying in his throat. The broom fell to the floor with a thump.

"Blaine."

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_**A/N: **__Voila! There's chapter eight for you, I hope you enjoyed it… :) It was going to be longer, but this felt like a really natural place to stop, so… don't hate me. Update should be soon because the chapter's already mostly written!_

_Leave a review if you like, they honestly mean the world to me, and I want to thank those who have alerted this story (over 100! Wow, thank you so much! Mwa!) and the reviewers! Thank you so much. :)_

_The song was "The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry, which I also do not own. _

_My tumblr url is rainyblaine and my twitter handle is writer_gem, if you're interested in either of those! Thank you! Stay tuned!_


	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: **__And here's chapter nine for you! That's right- you. Right there. YOU. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and alerted, I really appreciate it. It makes it even better than just writing this for my own amusement! :D_

_Everyone say thanks to my beta ms-pirate-ninja-boss who has helped me so much with this story (THANK YOU)!_

_Now, keep calm and read on. (:_

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Kurt's eyes widened as he took in the boy- no, the _man_- leaning on the counter. He was wearing dark, fitted jeans, the hems rolled up, tan Sperry Top Siders, and a thin green cardigan buttoned over a white and brown striped Henley. One hand was up resting on his shoulder, a hanger carrying what was presumably a suit in a carrying bag hooked over one finger.

His eyes flitted back up to Blaine's face, and he saw that the curly-haired man's face had turned red and he was biting his lip.

_Oh god, I was totally checking him out! How inappropriate am I?!_

"I, uh," Kurt breathed, looking down at his own feet. He bent over to pick the broom up off the floor, glad to have something to distract him from the admittedly gorgeous man in front of him, even if just for a few seconds. When he straightened back up, Kurt continued to sweep, looking at the floor instead of his former boyfriend. "What are you doing here?"

Blaine was looking Kurt up and down, admiring the way his black and white striped pants fit him so perfectly before disappearing into his black knee high boots. He had on a maroon cashmere pullover that hugged his slender abdomen and arms and a white scarf draped around his neck. He was definitely the same Kurt Blaine had known, but was also so different. There was a certain added… sophistication to his persona. He stood taller, was noticeably more muscular, and gave off an air of importance, even while sweeping the floor.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, glancing up at him. He smirked when he noticed Blaine's jaw was hanging open, and said, "Close your mouth, Anderson." Blaine snapped his jaw closed, lips pressing firmly together, and Kurt's eyes drifted to them for a long second before he blinked and redirected his stare, once again, to the floor, feeling his face flush. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I-I came to get a suit, um, tailored," Blaine stammered. He held his hanging bag in front of him. "I haven't worn it before and I need it by tomorrow afternoon."

"Hmm." Kurt tucked the broom back behind the counter before stepping around it and reaching to unzip the hanging bag to see the suit inside. He glanced at Blaine, who nodded quickly, before grasping the zipper and pulling it down. "Wow," he said, brushing his hand over the lapel, "Armani. Impressive." Blaine smiled slightly, staring at Kurt's face as Kurt appraised the suit, his sea blue eyes following the pinstripes up and down.

Kurt stepped back, and Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I'll go let Amber know you're here. Normally, you'd need an appointment, but since your a big star of a new movie-"

"You know about that?" Blaine asked, honestly surprised. He had known very little about Kurt's current life prior to the whole Lucas charade, and he certainly hadn't expected Kurt to keep up on his life.

Kurt smirked again at Blaine's shock. "Of course I know, Blaine. You're all over the television, not to mention the magazine stands." He tilted his head towards the counter, where a small magazine rack (which Kurt normally tried to ignore for this very reason) was sitting. A GQ was tucked into the front of the rack, and a large picture of Blaine, a fedora perched on his head and a jacket tossed over his shoulder, graced the cover. "Anyway, I'm sure Amber will be able to get this done by tomorrow, let me go get her."

Blaine nodded and laid his suit on the counter as Kurt strode into the back room, closing the door behind him. When the chestnut-haired boy was out of the room, Blaine let out a long breath and settled into a white leather chair sitting by the door, holding his head in his hands. _Maybe, _he thought, _this wasn't such a good idea. I clearly can't control myself. I was gaping at him! Gaping!_

Likewise, once Kurt heard the door click, he closed his eyes and fell backwards heavily, leaning on the door. He took a deep breath and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. What was Blaine doing here, not only in New York, but in his (okay, yeah yeah, Amber's) shop? Obviously getting a suit tailored, but… why?

Kurt's mind refused to accept that Blaine had just happened to choose Amber's tailor shop, that he had simply chosen it because it was widely known that Kurt's boss was the best tailor in the city, although he knew it was probably the truth. For some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just _maybe, _Blaine had known he was there.

_No, how would he? I'll have to ask Rachel, maybe she talked to him. First things first, though, let's get through this._

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Twenty minutes later found Kurt leaning against the front counter of the shop, flipping absently through an issue of _InStyle _as he watched Amber tuck and pin the smooth Armani suit, Blaine fidgeting slightly under her touch.

"Please, stop moving, Mr. Anderson," Amber muttered, a pin clenched in her teeth, crouching to reach the hem on the right leg of the trousers. "If I stab you with the pins, it's not my fault. And any blood stains you'll have to pay to get removed yourself."

Blaine's eyes widened and he nodded, balling his hands into fists and trying to stand still. He glanced nervously over at Kurt who, having quickly averted his eyes, was biting his lip to keep from smiling.

"Kurt, come over here." Amber straightened up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't quite get this hem right; finish pinning it, though, while I run to the lady's room. And make sure it's even; if it's crooked it's coming out of your pay. Don't make me dock it twice in one day."

"Um, yes, ma'am," the young man said, pushing himself off the counter and hurrying over to wear Blaine stood, staring in the mirror blankly. Amber briskly walked out of the room, leaving them alone once more.

Picking up the pincushion, Kurt knelt on the ground and began fiddling with the hem, not even glancing at Blaine's face. Not that Blaine would've been able to tell one way or the other; his eyes were screwed shut and he was focusing on his breathing.

Kurt's eyes widened as he leaned around Blaine's leg to pin the bit of fabric along the inseam and his gaze came to rest on a small image just on the inside of Blaine's right ankle. A small, solid black bird, wings spread as if in flight, was nestled there. Kurt drew in a deep breath and ran his finger over it, still not looking up, even as Blaine's breath caught and shuddered and his face flushed a deep crimson.

"Blackbird," Kurt whispered just loudly enough for Blaine to hear. His eyes were glued to the tattoo and his finger rested just next to it. Blaine chewed his lip worriedly, a tingly feeling spreading from where Kurt's index finger kept contact on his foot. He wanted to say something, but didn't know what. He chanced a look at his ex-boyfriend, and just as his head turned, Kurt pulled his hand back, wiped his eyes, and finished the hem quickly and without another word. When Amber returned, he took long strides to the back room where he remained until Amber called him out again.

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"Thank you, Ms. Chase. I know this is short notice, and I really appreciate you helping me out," Blaine said as Amber gathered her supplies to take back to her office.

"Of course, Mr. Anderson," she said. "The suit will be ready for you tomorrow morning. You can get changed in the dressing room and Kurt will hang it where it needs to be and give you your pick-up ticket." With that, she disappeared into the backroom, Kurt coming out a moment later, looking reluctant.

Blaine bit his lip, watching as Kurt crossed one arm across his chest to grip the other one and moved to stand behind the desk, looking down towards the floor awkwardly. "Hi," he said.

Kurt glanced up. "Hey," he replied. Another awkward moment. "Shouldn't you get changed?"

"Oh, I- yeah, right," Blaine said, stumbling. "I'll, uh, I'll be right back." He turned and headed to the dressing room, where he began pulling off the layers of the Armani suit. The pins made it more difficult, and more than once he had to stop himself from calling out and asking Kurt for help. _No, _he thought. _He already saw the bird, he can't see the other one._ _Besides, that would be weird. I, and only I, have been dressing and undressing myself for eight years now. Ugh, this is harder than I thought it would be, this whole thing. Maybe trying to reconnect was a bad idea. _ But at the same time, Blaine knew there was no going back now. And, in addition, he knew there was no way he could be happy without Kurt in his life, or at least knowing he had done everything he could to get Kurt back.

When Blaine was finally free of the suit, he quickly tossed his street clothes back on and carried it out to the front desk. Kurt was gazing out the window, his left fingers slowly moving over his right hand, back and forth, back and forth.

Blaine cleared his throat and smiled a little when Kurt jumped. "Here's the suit, where do you want it?" he asked.

"Oh, um. I'll just put it on Amber's to-do rack," Kurt answered, holding his hand out. Blaine might've- just _might've-_ let his own fingers linger on the hanger a moment longer than necessary, causing Kurt's to brush them just ever so slightly. Blaine flinched and startled though, when he felt the electric shock caused by the touch. It wasn't just figurative, it was literal- Kurt's hand shot back towards his body and the hanger fell to the floor, the suit crumpling around it.

Blaine blinked down at the suit, then at his hand, then over at Kurt, confused. Kurt cursed and bent over to pick up the suit, which he placed on a wheeled rack sitting by the back room before shaking his hand and returning to the desk. Blaine raised an eyebrow; that was it? That was Kurt's reaction? There had been a quite obvious spark between the both of them with even just that slight touch, literally, and Kurt had nothing to say about it?

As if he could read Blaine's mind, Kurt sighed and said, "It was just static electricity, Blaine."

Blaine said nothing in return as Kurt rang him up and scooted his pick-up ticket across the counter. "Do you want us to call you when it's ready?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Kurt glanced at him before picking up his pen and positioning it over a pad of paper. "Phone number?"

Feeling a little bit daring, Blaine chewed his lip for a second before saying, "You know, it might be easier to just put it in your phone."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Who knows if I'll be working when it's finished? Someone else might call you."

"Amber said it would be ready in the morning, and you work every morning," Blaine replied.

"How… how do you know that?" Kurt asked, brow furrowing.

_Crap. Only Lucas knew that._ "I- isn't that how these things usually work?" Blaine blurted. "I mean, I've been to a lot of tailors, and, uh, most of them didn't have a lot of employees. Just, um, one or two. So I figured you probably work every morning because that makes scheduling easier."

Kurt still looked doubtful, cocking his head, but he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket anyway. "Fine. Number?"

Sighing in relief, Blaine started to rattle off his number before realizing that Kurt already _had _his number- _as Lucas_. Right before he said the last four digits, he switched directions and recited Porter's number, glad that the two of them happened to have the same first six, and made a mental note to warn his costar about this.

"There, I'll call you when the suit's done." Kurt pocketed his phone, and turned to walk into the backroom. "Have a nice day."

"Wait, ah, Kurt," Blaine said quickly. "Um, I was wondering, do you maybe want to go get some coffee when you get off?"

Kurt hung his head and responded so quietly, not turning to face him, Blaine almost couldn't hear him. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Oh. I just thought we could… catch up."

"No, Blaine."

"Well, if you don't want to go get coffee-"

"I don't."

"-then I guess I'll see you…"

"Tomorrow morning, Blaine. You'll see me tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

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At twelve noon that same day, Blaine pulled open the door to Amber's shop, a two cups of coffee balanced in his hand and a paper bag of croissants cradled in his arm. "I'm back," he announced.

Kurt turned from where he was changing the dead light bulb in one of the floor lamps and his eyes grew wide. Glancing to the back room, he grabbed Blaine's sleeve and tugged him back outside, hissing, "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't we already have this talk?" Blaine responded, grinning.

"Blaine, seriously, what do you want?" Kurt asked impatiently. He was getting testy- he could not handle seeing Blaine, not again, not so soon after that morning. He knew he would do something he would regret if he spent too much time with the man. He had to guard his heart.

"I want to have coffee with you."

"Then will you leave me alone?"

"If you really want me to."

"I do."

Blaine's smile dropped for a moment before he pasted it back on, and he held out a cup to Kurt. "Non-fat mocha latte for you."

"You remembered?"

"Of course."

Kurt took the cup from him hesitantly, then pulled out his phone. "Let me just call Zoe and ask if she can come early," he said. Blaine nodded, trying to appear as if he wasn't listening as Kurt explained the _situation _to his coworker and smirking a little when he heard Kurt whisper fiercely, "_Yes, _that _Blaine Anderson, and _yes_, he's, as you put it, spicy hot. Now can you get over here?"_

Ending the call, Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "She'll be here in five minutes, and we can leave. Where do you want to go?"

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"So, tell me how your life's going," Blaine said, taking a sip of his medium drip. He crossed his legs and leaned back on the bench he and Kurt were sharing in Central Park.

Kurt lowered his latte and licked his lips, which caused Blaine to avert his eyes, because _how can he still be so attractive? _"Well, you've seen Amber, and you know I work there every morning, so what does that tell you?"

"You're still going the fashion route?"

Kurt nodded. "Yep. And work is basically my life, so there's not really much to tell. How about you?" He turned, setting his coffee on his knee and giving Blaine his full attention.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I act. That's really all there is to it. Work is pretty much my life, too."

"Mmm," Kurt said. He took another sip of coffee. "What about your… um… dating life?"

Blaine laughed humorlessly. "What dating life? I have to say, being an actor is harder than I thought it would be. Not a whole lot of personal time, or a personal life, let alone dating." He paused. "But, I love it, and I wouldn't trade it for the world." _Although I would trade it for just one person _in _this world… _"How about you?"

"Oh, of course," Kurt said quietly. "Well, don't feel bad, because my dating life is nonexistent. There was one guy, I guess, but- now don't laugh- I met him on a dating website. We never even really met, but I really, really liked him. It doesn't matter though, because he cut me off; he won't reply to any of my texts and he deleted his profile. I… I was pretty torn up about it, but life goes on. So that's about it. New York hasn't turned out to be quite the place I thought it would be, although, like you said, I love it and wouldn't trade it for anything." _Not for anything, but maybe any_one… He stopped that thought before it could progress and further and unfolded the paper bag of croissants, tearing a piece of one off and popping it in his mouth. "Plus, we have the best bakeries here."

Blaine chuckled. "Of course," he repeated. "But, that guy you met online, he, uh, he must've been a real ass to just drop you like that. You don't deserve that, and that guy doesn't deserve _you._" Blaine internally cringed at how true that was, how he had torn off just another little piece of Kurt's already battered heart and bruised his spirit, even just a little. He felt awful, and he wanted to hold Kurt. To hold Kurt and hug him and protect him, but he didn't.

Kurt spoke quietly when he said, "Thank you."

Blaine met his eyes for a second, and hesitated before deciding, _what the heck, why not. _

"Kurt, I…" he paused, trying to form a sentence, and trying to set himself up for when Kurt inevitably said no. "I know you didn't really want to come here, you didn't want to see me. But I'm glad you did. And I was wondering if you would like to come with me tonight to a party my director's hosting. A lot of people are going to be there, actors, friends, some fashion people maybe. I would be honored if you'd join me." He clasped his hands together to stop himself from taking Kurt's in his. "As friends, of course."

Kurt swallowed. Could he do this? Could he spend a few more hours with Blaine and not fall again? Even harder, could he resist spending a few more hours with Blaine? As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he felt a level of comfort with the curly-haired man he hadn't felt with anyone else in a long time, or ever, for that matter. "Um… okay, yeah."

_**A/N: **__And, scene! Okay, so I know that wasn't the best/longest chapter, and I'm sorry, I just really wanted to get it up so that I can start writing the real fun stuff next! Woo! _

_Anyhow, I hope you guys liked it, and I hate to say it, but I probably won't be updating for a while (boo) because I get my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and then it's the attack of the summer homework! Gross, right?_

_But I will be back sometime! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned!_


	11. Chapter 10

_**A/N:**__ Hey guys! If you're reading this, thanks for sticking around through my insane update schedule- I know it's irregular, and I'm really sorry. Life is hectic! :) _

_I've noticed that recently I've gained more followers and alerts, and I'm not really sure why this is so abrupt, is there any explanation? :o No matter what, though, I want to thank you guys so much for thinking my story worthy of even looking at, let alone reading and favoriting or following! Thank you thank you! I wish I could bake you all cookies of your choice!_

_Also, thanks for the well wishes on the whole wisdom teeth thing- it went about as well as can be hoped for, so yay. :) I just finished my first summer assignment, and school starts next week, and I still have two to do, so I should probably be doing those, but Klaine was calling, and who am I to deny them the next chapter of their journey? :D_

_ANYHOW, I'm sorry for this absurdly long author's note. My fingers just won't stop typing. ;) Here's the chapter, I hope you like it! _

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"Wait, you said yes?" Zoe asked, and Kurt could almost hear her eyebrow inching up her forehead in doubt. He tilted his head so that his phone was secure between his ear and shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Yes, I did."

As soon as Kurt had gotten home from his coffee date- _completely platonic, _of course- with Blaine, he had called up Zoe, who, like the amazing friend she was, had reluctantly but kindly agreed to cover for him with Amber (although she did make it very, very clear that Kurt owed her dearly). Hedging, Kurt had avoided telling Zoe all of the details, let alone the fact that Blaine had invited him to a party as his plus one and he had accepted. But after enough prying, he had finally admitted it, and Zoe was clearly concerned about the state of his mental health. Regardless, Kurt planned on going to the party- he couldn't just cancel on Blaine, that would be rude!- and was currently flipping through his (tiny, tiny, single-bedroom apartment's) closet looking for a suitable outfit.

He heard her hum in response before saying, "Kurt, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I'm glad you two got along today, but-"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt pulled a few shirts out and laid them out on his bed, smoothing them out and looking them over as he cut her off. "I know what you're thinking, Zoe, but it won't happen. I'm not going to fall for him again." _I won't let myself._

"You know it's not going to be that easy," she responded, her tone softer.

"I know," Kurt responded quietly, sighing again. "Believe me, I know."

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"Wait, he said yes?" Porter set his phone screen down next to him on the large, plush couch of the hotel suite and leaned forward, listening eagerly, the television playing on silently and forgotten on the other side of the room. "You actually asked him?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, finished buttoning his shirt, and picked his comb up from the coffee table to run through his curly hair. "Yes, I asked him, and yes, he said he would be glad to accompany me." He smiled for a moment into the mirror on the wall before his brow furrowed and a thoughtful look appeared on his face. "Okay, well, not in so many words."

"I can't believe it," Porter said. Blaine turned around to see his friend sporting a grin and staring at his hands, a look of wonder on his face.

"What?"

"I… I was right!" Blaine rolled his eyes again and turned back to the mirror to poke at a stray curl until he was satisfied. "My plan- my idea for you to try being yourself instead of that dumb Lucas dude?- it actually worked!" Porter continued. "I mean, I knew it would, but…."

"_Nothing _has worked yet. He's coming as a friend, and that's it." Blaine made a face into the mirror, adding under his breath, "And Lucas wasn't stupid."

"Oh, please." Porter flopped back on the couch and crossed his arms across his chest. "He was the worst idea ever. Trust me, I would know."

"Whatever. I have to go pick up my K-… um, I have to get Kurt."

"'My Kurt.' That's what you almost said. 'My Kurt.'"

Blaine flushed a brilliant red and threw his comb at his costar. "Shut up."

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A white button down shirt, tight black jeans, and a perfectly tailored grey vest with a red tie tucked in and a small gold scissor pin on the left side. Kurt knew he looked would look fantastic, from his perfectly coiffed hair to his Steve Madden boots. But first he had to shower and moisturize and he only had- he peeked at his watch- an hour until Blaine was due to arrive!

Kurt sighed, knowing that Rachel Berry was at least partly to blame. She had called him as soon as he hung up with Zoe, telling him all about her latest adventures with Theo and the paparazzi and the costume designers at work, until finally Kurt said he had to go get ready for a party.

"Ooh, a party? Which one?" Rachel had chirped excitedly. Kurt rolled his eyes and told her as much as he knew which was, he realized, next to nothing. Except for the fact that Blaine was taking him. He told her as much. "Wait, wait, wait. Blaine Anderson? Blaine's in town? Kurt, why didn't you tell me!" She was positively screeching now, and Kurt had to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid having his eardrum blown out.

"Rachel, I- RACHEL," he shouted, trying to get her to calm down and listen to him. "I only just found out myself. He came into the shop today, and we talked, and now I'm going to this party, so really, I must be going."

But of course that hadn't been the end of the conversation. Rachel was determined to come over and see Blaine before the two of them left, as, like she said, she and Blaine hadn't seen each other in _years _and it had been _far _too long and she missed her _ex-almost-maybe-boyfriend_ and they just _had _to compare notes about their costars and fellow actors. Finally, after he had had enough of her rambling, Kurt yelled, "I _really _have to go, Rach, I'll talk to you later!" and hung up.

And then he had picked out his ensemble for the evening (which had taken even longer than usual because he had to look perfect, _not_ that he was trying to impress anyone in particular- he was just going to be in good company tonight, what with all the actors and other people important in show business that would be attending the party) and now he had only an hour- nope, fifty-eight minutes now- to actually get ready.

So Kurt hopped into the shower and was out thirty minutes later, feeling fresher and cleaner and smelling absolutely amazing (if he had used double or maybe triple the amount of body wash that he usually did, who was to know?). He was just wrapped in a towel, blow drying his hair, when he realized that there was absolutely no way in hell that he would be ready to leave for such a high-profile party in just half an hour. Putting down the blow dryer for a minute, he scooted into his bedroom to grab his cell off his dresser before sending a quick text to Blaine.

_Hey, I'm running a little behind. Could you come a little later- just fifteen or twenty minutes?_

He dropped his phone on his bed and moved back to the bathroom, confident he had enough time now.

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Blaine's car pulled up to the address Kurt had given him and the actor looked out the window of the backseat, peering up at the building. It wasn't quite what he had expected, if he was honest with himself, not for Kurt, who had spoken dreams of grandeur the whole time Blaine had known him. But then, Blaine also knew New York living wasn't cheap and Kurt couldn't be making all that much money as one of Amber's assistants, not with the way she seemed to dock her employees' pay for no reason at all.

Thanking his driver, he told him he'd be back in five minutes with Kurt, and then they could head to the party. His driver nodded and drove away to park down the street as Blaine entered the apartment building and started climbing the stairs to the sixth floor (to be honest, he wasn't sure if he trusted the elevator). Finally, just a tiny bit out of breath, he reached Kurt's floor and found his apartment door. Taking a deep breath and running his hand softly through his curls, Blaine shook out his shoulders nervously before raising a fist and rapping his knuckles on the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he heard from the inside. He shifted his weight anxiously and licked his lips. "Oh my god, Rach, I didn't think-"

The voice cut off as the door flew back and revealed Kurt. "Oh, uh, Blaine. I- I wasn't expecting you."

Blaine could clearly see that as he looked at his ex-boyfriend. Kurt had on black jeans so tight he looked as if he had been poured into them and only a white undershirt that showed off his slender but muscular body. His hair was already styled, and Blaine felt a flutter of guilt when he found himself wishing that he could run his hands through it.

By the time Blaine's eyes made it back to Kurt's face, the other man was a deep scarlet color from his ears to his neck. Blaine cleared his throat and his eyes darted to the floor as he said, "But, um, it's seven and that's when we agreed on… unless- you didn't change your mind, did you?" His gaze flew back up to Kurt as he ended the question, looking worried.

Kurt, on the other hand, just looked confused. "Did I-? No, Blaine, geez. I just- well, I mean, obviously I'm not ready yet." He gestured to his current outfit, his blush, which had slowly been fading, returning. "Didn't you get my text?"

"Text? Oh. Um." Blaine rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He had completely forgotten to warn Porter that he had given Kurt _his _number, and Porter was probably wondering who the hell had sent him a message about a change of plans. _Oops._ "My phone… kinda… died?" Mentally cursing himself for the lilt that made the statement into a question, Blaine flashed Kurt a bashful smile.

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course it did," he said. He took a step back in his socked feet and waved Blaine inside before turning to head back to his room. "I'll just be a few more minutes, okay?"

Blaine shut the door behind him and replied, "Oh, yeah, of course," as he forced himself not to stare at Kurt's rear end as the man disappeared through a doorway.

"Thanks. Make yourself at home!" Kurt called out. "And if someone knocks on the door, it's Rachel, so you can just let her in- she wanted to see you." Blaine could almost hear him rolling his eyes, and he grinned before letting his eyes flit around Kurt's home.

It was instantly obvious to him that Kurt was the only one living in the small apartment; everything was spotless, neat, and organized to a standard that only Kurt could abide by. The carpeted floors of the living area Blaine was standing in were stain-free, the coffee table was empty save for a coaster and small stack of fashion magazines, and the dark steely gray sofa was under the windows, which were draped with silver and black striped curtains. A small TV sat on a wooden entertainment center opposite the sofa, and a large, framed _Wicked_ poster hung above it. Blaine smiled to himself. It was so… _Kurt._

He wandered into the small kitchen and was greeted by the warm scent of cinnamon coming from a fragrant candle sitting next to the sink. He crossed the room in a few strides and took a deep breath, enjoying the tickle as the smell wound its way up his nose, and he closed his eyes. Many winter afternoons, years ago, where the two boys would lounge around the crackling fireplace in the Hummel's living room, eating slices of freshly baked pumpkin pie with just the perfect amount of whipped topping dolloped on top, and steaming mugs of cinnamon spice coffee. Those afternoons, and the kisses they included, remained some of Blaine's favorite to this very day.

"Blaine?"

The man's eyes flew open in a flurry of eyelashes and he leaned back away from the candle. "Yes?" he called back.

Kurt appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, fully dressed now. "Oh, I just wasn't sure where you'd gone. But I guess I didn't really need to shout, it's a pretty small place." He smiled slightly. "You look really nice," he said almost shyly.

Blaine blushed a little and looked down at his royal purple button down and tan chinos. "Thanks," he said. "So do you."

"I know," Kurt said, tossing a wink at him, causing his blush to darken. He looked Blaine up and down once more, eyes narrowing. "You're stylist did a really good job. But…. Come with me."

Confused, Blaine followed Kurt back through the living room and to the doorway of his bedroom, saying, "I don't have a stylist." Blaine paused in the threshold and stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets.

Kurt ignored his hesitance and headed straight for his closet, saying, "You pick out all your clothes yourself? Even for events?" He pulled out a silver and purple tie with a diamond pattern that perfectly matched Blaine's shirt. "Perfect."

"Yeah, I do," Blaine answered as Kurt crossed the room once more and stopped immediately in front of him.

He was standing _so_ close. Blaine blinked harshly and concentrated on his breathing. This might have been worse than their proximity at the tailor shop earlier that afternoon, plus, now, they were alone. In Kurt's _apartment_. In his _bedroom_. Blaine's breathing hitched when Kurt reached up mindlessly to button the top of Blaine's shirt before lifting his collar and winding the tie around his neck. He tied it slowly and carefully, and Blaine didn't know if he was doing it purposely or unconsciously but he knew that if Kurt didn't step away from him soon, _very _soon, he was going to make a move that it was far too early in their reunion to be making.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kurt gave Blaine's (okay, _his_) tie one final tug and moved back ever so slightly to rake his eyes over his outfit once more before raising his blue eyes to meet Blaine's hazel ones. "Perfect," he repeated quietly.

There was a moment in which Blaine thought, _screw it_, and almost dove in. He knew that if he leaned forward just a tiny bit, reached his hand out, he could cup Kurt's cheek and surely kiss him senseless. And he wanted to, oh man did he want to, but in the back (admittedly the way, way back- almost too far back to even pretend to hear) of his head, there was a voice saying, _"Now is not the time. Wait."_

Kurt was having a similar struggle. His heart was urging him, pushing him to just move forward once more, take just a step, and press his lips to Blaine's. But his brain was having a tough time accepting these directions; he had to protect himself. He couldn't, he couldn't do this again, he couldn't set himself up for another almost-decade of misery. If there was one thing Kurt had learned in life, it was that once he reached his tipping point and fell for someone (okay, Blaine) he fell hard, far, fast and was completely and totally enamored, in love. And while that could be wonderful, he also knew that once he kept falling, right past love and into the pit of despair that lay at the bottom of the chasm of possibility, there was nobody that could help him piece his broken pieces back together and climb back to the top except himself. And it was a damn hard time recovering from a shattering that brutal.

So in the end, Kurt moved away from Blaine, bit his lip, and said quietly, "You're very good as your own stylist," to which Blaine responded with half a smile and a deep breath that was a mixture of adrenaline and disappointment.

Seconds later a loud squeal erupted from behind Blaine and he whirled around to see a rush of fuzzy sweater leap at him and engulf him in a hug. "BLAINE! You're here!"

Kurt smirked as Blaine let out an,"Oof!" followed by a muffled, "Hey, Rachel."

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_**A/N: **__So that's that! I hope you guys liked it… I know it ended a little awkwardly, what with Rachel just appearing, but alas._

_Let me know what you think! Love you guys! :) Have an amazing weekend!_


	12. Chapter 11

_**A/N: **__Okay guys, I can't even apologize for how late this chapter is, and there's really no suitable excuse, though if I were to offer one up I would say that life is crazy and has a ton of ups and downs and we all have to experience these at some point and sometimes they hit when we least expect them._

_But whatever, y'all don't wanna hear about that._

_Let's get on with the chapter, shall we? I hope you like it. :) It hasn't been beta'd as I really wanted to get it up without any further delay, so please excuse any gaping errors or typos and the like. Thanks, everyone, and enjoy! :)_

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Forty minutes later, Kurt and Blaine were sitting in Kurt's kitchen, sharing amused glances and hiding smiles behind their coffee mugs as Rachel droned on and on about her current show, her current role, her current costars, and, of course, her current boyfriend, Theo.

After his second mug of coffee and seventh time barely restraining himself from running his hand through his perfectly styled hair out of sheer boredom, Kurt used a pause in Rachel's monologue as an opportunity to clap his hands together, startling both Rachel, who had just opened her mouth to begin speaking again, and Blaine, who had seemingly fallen into a state of semi-consciousness.

"Well, Rachel, this has been just a bucket of fun, and I'm sure Blaine agrees." The other man nodded hastily. "But I'm afraid we are now"- Kurt checked his watch- "half an hour late to the party, which is _beyond _fashionably late, especially for the _star_," he said, gesturing to Blaine, who followed his lead and stood up. Rachel, too, rose out of her seat and let Kurt walk her to the front door. Blaine trailed behind, cringing when he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw the several missed calls from Les and text messages from Porter and other members of the cast.

"Well, I hope you guys have a great time!" Rachel was saying when Blaine caught up to them. "Blaine, I hope you're in town long enough to catch a cup of coffee somewhere? Get my number from Kurt and let me know." Blaine assured her that he would and gave her another hug before she left the apartment.

Kurt closed the door behind her and sighed. "I'm sorry, I had no idea she would come rushing over, although I guess I should've figured. She always adored you- that's one thing we had in common." He paused and his face turned pink. He bit his lip as if trying to keep more emotional statements from cascading out of his mouth. "Anyway," he finally continued after an awkward moment, "I suppose we should get going."

Blaine nods, a little speechless. "Uh- yeah," he said. "I suppose we should."

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Ten minutes later Blaine and Kurt were getting into the back of a company car. The driver opened the door and Blaine waved for Kurt to slip in first. In his haste, he ended up knocking his head on the doorway, leaving Blaine to scramble in after him. The driver circled back around the car and climbed into the front seat.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, resting a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"I- _shit, _that hurt. Am I bleeding, can you check?" Kurt turned to look at Blaine pleadingly, one hand pressed to his head.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Here," Blaine answered. He reached up and clicked on the backseat light before threading his fingers into Kurt's hair. He knew he was just checking the extent of the injury, he _knew _it, but for just a second he let himself close his eyes and imagine it was just like the old days of high school, fulfilling the wish (well, kind of) that he had had in Kurt's apartment.

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"Do you know how many times I've seen this movie?" Blaine asked, sliding in the DVD and rocking back on his heels.

"Um… six," Kurt guessed from his place lounging on the brown leather sofa in the Andersons' den.

Blaine scoffed. "More like sixteen." He grabbed the remote from the television cabinet and flopped down on the couch next to his boyfriend.

"You can_not _be serious," Kurt said. He raised an eyebrow, but angled himself to fit his head in the crook of Blaine's shoulder.

"It's one of my favorites!" Blaine protested, wrapping his arm around the other boy's shoulders.

"Blaine, I have favorite movies, too. But I have not seen _any _of them _sixteen _times."

"Not even _Moulin Rouge_?"

"…Alright, maybe _Moulin Rouge,_" Kurt relented.

Blaine brushed his cheek against Kurt's soft hair, smiling softly. "Well, this is my _Moulin Rouge._"

"No, Blaine, this is _Jurassic Park._ Not even in the same circuit. But- there is one good thing about you picking out this movie even though you've seen it two hundred times-"

"Sixteen, Kurt. Sixteen."

"-is you don't need to see it today, right?"

Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice but didn't quite pick up on what he meant until the main menu cycle of the DVD began playing and all of a sudden Kurt's lips were on his. Kurt's hands cradled his face and all of a sudden he was sitting on Blaine's lap, and Blaine's hand was on Kurt's neck, then his fingers were tangled in his soft chestnut hair as his other hand gripped his waist. The movie went forgotten.

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"Is there blood?"

Kurt's worried voice shook Blaine out of his reverie and he opened his eyes, feeling awkward as he wondered just how long he'd been sitting there fingering the other man's hair.

"Blaine?"

"Oh, uh, no, you're okay." He pulled his hand back and clicked off the light before Kurt could see his blush. "You, uh, might have a bump though."

"Yeah," Kurt said, sighing at both the pain in his scalp and the loss of contact as Blaine's fingers dropped their grip on his hair, "I figured." He opened his eyes, which had been closed against the sensation of being so _near _Blaine, so close and almost intimate with him once more. He turned and blue-green met hazel in the shimmering lights coming in the cars tinted windows. "Thanks," he murmured, his eyes drifting down to Blaine's lips.

"No problem," Blaine responded, just barely moving his mouth, aware of where Kurt's gaze was directed despite the fact that he was no longer looking at the other man's eyes, but, just like Kurt, down at his mouth.

Blaine leaned in just a little, hesitant until Kurt did the same. Two pairs of eyes flickered shut and two pairs of lips met with the _lightest_ touch…

Just then the car pulled to a stop. Kurt pulled back so quickly he almost hit his head, again, on the window, and Blaine's eyes shot open. The driver craned his neck to look back at them, clearing his throat. "We're here, Mr. Anderson." The door was opened just after.

"Thank you," Blaine said, sliding out of the car and holding his hand out to help Kurt climb out. The second Kurt's feet hit the red carpet, the paparazzi's already loud shouts at Blaine increased substantially.

"Blaine, is this your boyfriend?!"

"What's his name?"

"He's cute! Why haven't we seen him before?!"

Flashes went off all around them and Blaine heard Kurt gasp beside him, felt his hand's grip tighten and his whole body tense up. "Relax, it's okay." He knew he should let go of his hand, but he decided against it. Who cared what the tabloids and press thought anymore? Rumors would come out of this no matter what, and Kurt seemed to need the reassurance (he was, admittedly, a little overwhelmed by all the lights and shouting, even if it was something he'd dreamed of for much of his life) and Blaine was more worried about him than about the press reporting about him being in a relationship.

"Why is your hair messed up? Were you two fooling around in the car?"

The question is shouted by some random reporter, and Blaine and Kurt turn immediately to each other. Four wide eyes meet, and then Kurt's fly up to assess Blaine's hair. But Blaine knows the reporter is talking about Kurt's, the mess that was made of it when Blaine was checking for a cut or any hint of blood. _Crap, _he thinks. He quickly turns and pulls Kurt inside the restaurant where the party is being held.

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_**A/N: **__Okay, gonna be honest, I'm not completely happy with this chapter (like, at all) and I apologize for its poor quality. I really wanted to get something up though. I can't really make a guess as to when the next one will be up, but I promise I'll try harder to make it a more quality update, and hopefully sooner._

_Thanks for reading. :) If you wanted to review, that would be awesome. ;) Love you all!_


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N:**__ Annnnnd we're back with another chapter! This here is number 12, and I hope y'all like it. Also, in case you didn't know, I started another fic (I know, I know) titled "Broken Bones, Broken Spirits" which is up to about 3 chapters, so, if you want to check that out, ya know, that'd be completely a-okay with me. ;) Also, my tumblr URL has changed and is now bdevanderson (BECAUSE BLAINE HAS A MIDDLE NAME AHH)._

_This chapter begins with a flashback, complete with song, and then returns to present day. _

_I don't own Glee or Kurt or Blaine or the song used here, though if I did, that'd be completely awesome because I love all three of these things. I do, however, own a television and box capable of letting me watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S reruns at 2 in the morning, yay!_

_Anyhow, here you go, and sorry it took so long. _

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A fuzzy blanket, a big bowl of hot fudge-covered ice cream, and a DVD copy of _School of Rock _were all that occupied Blaine as he sat against his headboard, his knees pulled up to his chest and his laptop by his feet.

The Jack Black comedy he was watching wasn't a normal break-up comfort film, Blaine knew, but he couldn't bring himself to watch one of his usual consolation films like _You've Got Mail _or _An Affair to Remember _and goodness knows _When Harry Met Sally _is out of the question, along with _Moulin Rouge._ And besides, he was new to this whole break-up thing since Kurt had been his first boyfriend, and he had never really thought about what would happen at the end of their relationship, how he would act, because, well, he had been of the hope and belief that it would never come. He was also aware that he was long past what was probably considered the normal and acceptable length of the mourning phase of a relationship laid to rest, but today had been especially hard what with heated arguments with his parents about boys and his career and secrecy and all that he wanted- _needed_- could be summed up in one syllable: _Kurt. _

But now even Dewey Finn (oh crap, his last name was Finn and that was just going to remind Blaine of _Finn, _who was _Kurt's _step-brother and there was no way this summer could get worse) teaching his young students hilariously long handshakes or mocking his roommates horrible girlfriend could make him smile.

By the middle of the movie, his ice cream bowl, one murderously larger than any health fanatic would allow, was scraped empty. He set it on his nightstand and dropped the spoon inside with a clatter. The silver of the spoon caught the light of the laptop and shone a light blue, catching Blaine's gaze and making him blink back tears as he thought of Kurt's beautiful, beautiful cerulean irises. He tugged his burgundy fleece blanket up to his chin and averted his eyes, which settled instead on the window overlooking the front yard in his family's new house in Los Angeles. It was so, so far from Lima, and even farther from New York and everything that meant anything to him at all.

It had been a month and a half since he had last spoken to Kurt, a rushed good-bye at Rachel's house where Kurt had been helping Rachel pack for the city just before Blaine had caught his flight at the airport with his brother, as their parents were staying behind to close the deal on the house. It had been awkward and full of half-glances and not-quite-meeting-gazes, but it had been interaction at least, and Blaine wished he could go back to even that moment. Maybe, maybe if he had tried he could've made everything right. Maybe then he would be sitting with a bowl of popcorn and the new issue of Vogue, Skyping with Kurt. Maybe then he wouldn't be dreading his early morning meeting with his new cast mates tomorrow and hating the fact that he had nobody to gossip about them with after. Maybe, just maybe.

But no, it was a month and a half too late. And even if Blaine tried to speak to Kurt now, even if he let his thumb actually tap the _Talk _button after hitting speed dial number 2 on his cell instead of hanging up, or logged back in under his old Skype username and clicked on Kurt's name, it would be too hard. Hello only ever ended in good-bye, and that wasn't something he could deal with again. Even if Kurt had never officially said it, it had been more than implied by the cessation of all forms of communication between the two of them.

_I bet this time of night you're still up._

_I bet you're tired from a long hard week._

_I bet you're sitting in your chair by the window,_

_Looking out at the city,_

_And I bet sometimes you wonder about me._

The sounds of the movie still playing on his laptop went unnoticed as Blaine stared out the window, up at the stars visible in the dark night sky. He closed his eyes and pushed his phone over the edge of his bed, listening to it thump onto the carpeted floor. He wouldn't let himself call Kurt again just to have it be forwarded to voicemail, or to let Kurt see his name on his call history and laugh at his desperation. No. At least the temptation would now require him to move and he was just too exhausted for that at the moment. His eyes opened and his gaze fell back to the window as he sighed.

_And I just want to tell you_

_It takes everything in me not to call you._

_And I wish I could run to you._

_And I hope you know that_

_Every time I don't,_

_I almost do._

_I almost do._

Two thousand and five hundred miles away, Kurt was lying in his bed, his comforter tucked tightly around his body and his curtains floating open above the heater under the window situated just to the right of his bed.

The city lights drifted in through the newly cleaned windows, bright and enticing, even at the late hour. Kurt smiled slightly as he realized for what must've been the millionth time in the past month and a half that he was actually in New York, in the city that never sleeps. And that was a sentiment that rang true for Kurt, too; ever since he had moved to the city, he hadn't gotten a night of good sleep. Although, if he was being honest, he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't have been able to sleep even back in Lima. His sneaking suspicion was that it had less to do with the city and more to do with the lack of Blaine in his life, though he would never say it out loud.

Rachel snored under her pink plaid duvet on the other side of the one room apartment, and Kurt sighed. He had tried to talk to Rachel about Blaine, he had, but what with her break up with Finn just a week and a half ago, she was distraught as well, probably even more so. Although it seemed that, unlike Kurt, she had no trouble sleeping.

Picking up his phone from his nightstand, Kurt swiped his finger across the screen and scrolled through his contacts until he got to the one entered as _Blaine __ , _which he just couldn't bring himself to change. He tapped it and bit his lip, staring at the picture, one he had taken on the one year anniversary at the park. Blaine's curls were coming loose under his tweed hat and his grey cardigan was slightly skewed as he stretched out his legs to push the swing forward. His mouth was wide open in a loud laugh, and Kurt felt a smile tug on his lips even as he just looked at the picture. His thumb hovered over the _Call _button and he closed his eyes. He knew it didn't make sense for him to want to talk to Blaine so urgently, so terribly, when every _single _time Blaine had tried to call him or text him for the past month he had ignored it. He felt bad, but he couldn't. He just couldn't talk to Blaine, because he just _knew _that he would fall back in love with him and when it ended again, it would just be too much.

_I bet you think I either moved on or hate you,_

'_Cause each time you reach out there's no reply._

_I bet it never, ever occurred to you_

_That I can't say hello to you_

_And risk another good-bye._

The movie ended and before he shut his laptop, Blaine clicked on Skype, and, despite what his brain told him, logged in to his old username, the one Kurt had as a contact. He moved the mouse to hover over Kurt's username, which had a red dot next to it, and stared at the user picture. It was a new one, it seemed, different from the last time Blaine had been on. In the picture, Kurt and Rachel had their arms around each other and were standing in front of a _Wicked _poster on a busy New York sidewalk. After staring at it for a moment and taking in the other boy's newly highlighted hair, form-fitting vest and slacks, and sparkling eyes, Blaine quickly logged out and shut his laptop. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears sprung to the surface and pushed his computer to the end of his bed before curling into a ball and rolling onto his side, letting the tears fall quietly onto his pillow.

_We made quite a mess, babe._

_It's probably better off this way. _

_And I confess, babe,_

_That in my dreams you're touching my face_

_And asking me if I want to try again with you._

_And I almost do._

Kurt dropped his phone back onto the nightstand, sweeping a hand under his eyes and wiping away the tears settled there. He grabs the curtains and yanks them to cover the window before rolling over, frustrated with everything, and burying his face in his pillow, choking back a sob in the fears of waking Rachel up.

_I bet this time of night you're still up._

_I bet you're tired from a long hard week._

_I bet you're sitting in your chair by the window,_

_Looking out at the city,_

_And I hope sometimes you wonder about me._

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"Blaine, what the _hell _did you do to my hair?" Kurt snapped, twisting Blaine around the second they stepped inside the restaurant. His free hand flew to his head to try and settle his mussed hair.

Blaine shuffled from foot to foot nervously. This was not good. Now rumors were going to pop up everywhere, and he'd dragged Kurt into the messy Hollywood fray, and Porter was just going to have a blast...

"It, uh, it just got a little messy," he answered, and Kurt glared at him. "Look, there's a bathroom over here, okay?" He pointed down a short hallway near the entrance and placed a hand on the small of Kurt's back to guide him. "Let's go fix it."

Kurt shivered a bit when he felt the warmth of Blaine's hand through the combined weight of his vest, dress shirt, and undershirt, but allowed himself to be guided to the men's room. He pushed the door open and headed for the mirror, his mouth falling open slightly when he saw his reflection. "_Blaine," _he said through gritted teeth, "I am going to _kill _you."

Blaine stood behind him, biting his lip, looking both frightened and amused. "I swear, Kurt, I didn't mean to." He reached up and brushed a strand of hair off of Kurt's forehead. "It doesn't actually look that bad, though," he assured, moving to stand behind him so that the other man had more mirror room.

Scoffing, Kurt wet his hands and ran them through his hair which still had the remnants of hairspray in it. "Yeah, not bad if you're going for the _we just fooled around in a car on the way to a big cast party_ style." He glanced at the reflection of Blaine and met his eyes. "Which we _weren't."_

"Wait, we weren't going for the style, or we weren't fooling around in a car?" Blaine asked.

"Neither. Both. Whatever."

Blaine chuckled and watched as Kurt finished patting his hair into place. When he was done, Kurt spun around to face Blaine. "So?"

"Very nice," he answered, smiling. "Now, let's-"

But before he could finish his sentence, the bathroom door opened with a bang and Blaine was yanked into a half-hug as a man's voice, loud in his ear, said, "So, I heard some photographers say two guys were fooling around in a car. I knew my Blainers had to be one of them, but his friend? You must be Kurt." The man held out a hand. "I'm Porter."

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_**A/N: **__And there ya have it! It's actually longer than the past few have been, courtesy of the flashback, which I actually think came out pretty well. The song used is "I Almost Do" by Taylor Swift, and I really like it :) _

_Please, let me know what you thought/think/like/hate! :) _


	14. Chapter 13

_**A/N: **__Hey y'all! I am so so sorry this has taken so long. School's been insane, project after project, and then there was a bunch o' family stuff and personal issues and I'm an awful updater and I owe you my sincere apologies and gratitude for waiting._

_And I want to thank all of you SO much for following or favoriting or reviewing this story- I never imagined there would be as many followers as there are- there are much better fics out there, so thank you SOSOSOSO much, you have no idea what it means to me. Love to all of you, and I hope you like this chapter._

_I don't own Glee (it would be the Klaine show all the way :), or Friends (you'll see) or the song used in this chapter._

_Enjoy!_

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Blaine bit back a groan as Porter leaned on his shoulder. Kurt raised his eyebrow at the man, glaring.

The actor, however, didn't seem to notice any problems. "So, Kurt, I've heard _so_ much about you! And if you two were fooling around, as they say, I suppose Blaine told you everything about Lu-"

Blaine elbowed Porter pointedly in the ribs, coughing loudly, and was grateful that Porter, thick as he could be, seemed to get the message. He sputtered to a stop and cast a sidelong glance at Blaine, who shook his head subtly and shifted his gaze to the floor.

Kurt's eyes flickered between the two of them, suspicious. "Alright, I don't know what's going on with you two, and I don't think I want to, especially if what I've heard about Porter is true." He looked pointedly at the man in subject who simply grinned. "Either way, Blaine and I were _not _messing around in the car, no matter what the paparazzi or anyone else thinks." He took one last look into the mirror to assure his hair was up to its usual standards before crossing the men's room to the door. He looked over his shoulder before he pushed it open and added, "And so we should put that rumor to rest." With that he walked out the door.

"A man on a mission," Porter said, before he turned to stare at Blaine, hands on his hips. "So," he went on slowly, "I take it you haven't told him?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Gee, what gave you that idea?" When Porter's only response was to raise his eyebrows, Blaine sighed. "Okay, no, I haven't told him. But really, did you honestly think I would? _You're_ the one who told me to quit with Lucas, anyway! And now you want me to spill that I'm the one who broke Kurt's heart _again_?"

"Alright, I'll admit you have a point- I did tell you to quit with Lucas. But did Kurt tell you about him?"

"Yeah, why?"

Porter sighed. "Blaine, use your brain. If he opened up to you about that, don't you think he deserves honesty, too?"

"That's not the same-"

"No, you're right, it's not. It's not the same because he had no obligation to share that with you. He could've gone on with his life and never told you because, as far as he knows, it has nothing to do with you. But Lucas? Lucas has _everything_ to do with you _and_ him, and he deserves to know."

Blaine closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face, leaning back against the wall next to the door. He crossed his arms. "Yeah, okay, I get what you're saying. And I'll admit that you're probably right. But how am I supposed to _tell _him that- that I'm Lucas when he hurt him so badly?"

"Not he- you, Blaine. And I know you hate to hear it, but you need to be honest. Again, I'll ask you, what happened the last time you lied to Kurt?" Blaine didn't respond, refusing to meet his eyes. Porter continued on anyway, ignorant to the small crack that had appeared in the space between the door and the jam. "Tell him, Blaine."

"Alright," Blaine said slowly, reluctantly, eyes closed in a resigned manner. "Okay, I'll tell Kurt. I'll tell Kurt I'm Lucas."

They both turned when the door banged open and Kurt appeared, glaring at Blaine with tears shining in his eyes. Blaine thought his heart might rip in two at the unfortunately familiar sight. As the taller boy spun around and started rushing out of the building, Blaine choked out a strangled call. "Kurt-"

Kurt turned back, and, in between strangled sobs, said, "No, Blaine. Just- just leave me alone."

The door swung shut and Blaine covered his face with his hands, groaning loudly. And when Porter made a face before sarcastically saying, "Well, that went well," he almost let out a strangled scream.

_So close,_ he thought, _but I've messed up _again_._

"Can we just go home?"

Porter looked confused, but nodded nonetheless. "Yeah," he replied, "yeah, let's go back to the hotel."

"No, Porter," Blaine said, still not lifting his face from his hands. "I mean LA. I need out, out of the city."

"Oh." His costar was surprised. "I mean, yeah, we have some press to do, but just a few days. A few days, Blaine, and we can head back. For now, though, let's ditch the party and go get you some ice cream and a _School of Rock_ marathon, yeah?"

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A few days later, Blaine was laying on his couch, watching an old _Friends_ rerun. A bowl of popcorn sat on his chest and he reached absently in to grab a few more pieces as he watched Chandler stumble his way through a made up short-story about Rachel to keep her from seeing the truth about what was written on the paper. Then he watched as Rachel snatched the paper from Chandler's hand, ran around the couch, and read the list, the list of things that Ross and Chandler and Joey had created when weighing Ross' options between Rachel and Julie.

And suddenly, when Ross said, "Give me a second chance," and Rachel said, "No," well, that's when it hit him.

No, no, Blaine had never made a list about Kurt, never had to weigh the pros and the cons- he always knew he wanted to be with him and only him. But he _had _hurt him, he had taken his trust and pulled it taut, put it to the test, and finally sawed it in two. He couldn't blame Kurt for being angry, not at all. It was all his fault, Blaine would admit. And now, after the whole Lucas stunt, it wasn't even a second chance he was asking for. It was a third, and once he messed up again, which he was sure he would, it would be a fourth, a fifth, then a sixth and a seventh. He would always be asking Kurt for forgiveness.

That is, if he got it this time.

So, as he continued watching _Friends_, he pulled a page from Ross' book. Blaine sat up quickly, the popcorn bowl clattering to the floor and spilling the popped kernels all over the rug. Ignoring it, he fumbled for his iPhone on the coffee table, and fired off a text to Rachel (Rachel Berry, that is, not Rachel Green). When he got an answer not even a minute later, he quickly made a call and pulled a few favors, then texted Rachel once more. When she assured him that she would do as he asked, he sat back and waited.

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"Hey, Kurt!" Rachel called, knocking on her friend's apartment door. "Kurt, let me in!" She shifted the take-out bags in her arms, finally digging into her pocket for the spare key Kurt had given her.

She precariously gripped the bags in one arm as she slid the key into the lock and turned it, pushing the door open awkwardly. Tugging the key back out, she pushed the door with her hip until it clicked shut, and then dropped the bags gracelessly on Kurt's bar.

"Kurt?" she called again. "I brought Chinese food and..." Her voice trailed off as she heard her phone buzz in her purse. A text from Blaine was on the screen, asking simply, "What radio station does Kurt listen to?"

Brow furrowed, Rachel responded quickly, and then slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans just as Kurt stepped out of his bedroom. His hair was wet and unstyled, and his hands were nestled deep in the pocket of his burgundy H&M hoodie. "Sorry," he said. "I was in the shower."

"I can see that," Rachel said, looking him over as he stalked into the kitchen. Ever since Blaine had visited the week before, Kurt had reverted to his post-high-school-break-up ways. He was wearing hoodies and sweatpants, t-shirts and fuzzy socks, barely leaving the house and rarely changing clothes even when he did. His skin was getting splotchy and Rachel was fairly certain he had a small case of dandruff, but she wasn't going to be the one to point it out to him. It was due to all of this that Rachel knew something had happened, once again, between the two of them, but Kurt had maintained that he didn't want to talk about it or Blaine or Lucas at all for the rest of his life.

Which is why she was so surprised when another text came from Blaine just a few seconds later.

"Can you make sure he's listening to it now, please?"

"Sure. But you owe me an explanation," she tapped back as Kurt rummaged through the take-out bags, pulling out container of Lo Mein and orange chicken.

"Hey, Kurt, you know what we haven't done in a long time?"

Kurt glanced at her questioningly before digging a pair of forks out of a drawer. "No. Enlighten me," he replied.

Rachel bit her lip before executing an awkward dance move around him and flicking on the portable radio sitting by the sink. A Lady Gaga song was playing. "Have a dance party!"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt frowned. He moved to turn the music off. "Rach, I don't want a dance party-"

"Aw, come on, Kurt, it'll be fun. Loosen up a bit!" And she wiggled around in a supposed dance until he was stuck in the corner of the kitchen, hips against the counter as he tried to dodge her flailing arms. "Just a few songs, please?"

Kurt sighed. "Alright, I guess-"

"And this next one is from Lucas, for Kurt. Kurt, he wants you to know he's very sorry and never, ever meant to hurt you."

The radio announcer cut off as a song started playing, and Kurt, startled, gaped at Rachel who had lowered her arms to her side. "What the hell," he said, staring at the radio.

Rachel glanced at the radio too, as if to ensure the lyrics hadn't started yet, and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "I don't know what happened between you and Blaine, Kurt, although that Lucas thing gave me a hint, but on any account, I think you should just listen, okay? Let him try."

Kurt tore his gaze from the radio and met Rachel's eyes, nodding slowly. "I- okay."

_So far away from where you are  
These miles have torn us worlds apart  
And I miss you, yeah I miss you_

So far away from where you are  
I'm standing underneath the stars  
And I wish you were here  
  
Kurt screwed his eyes shut when he felt a hot pressure behind them, willing himself not to cry. Lord knew he had wasted enough tears over this boy. But he couldn't bring himself to turn the radio off, even though Rachel had backed out of the room.

_I miss the years that were erased  
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face  
I miss all the little things  
I never thought that they'd mean everything to me  
Yeah I miss you  
And I wish you were here_

But how could Blaine wish he was there? He had had his chance, because, despite what Kurt had told himself, there had been that little possibility, a hope, even, that somehow, someway, everything would work out between them. But Blaine had let him down, and it was worse than before. This time he had willingly deceived him.

But it was Blaine.

Knees weak, Kurt leaned back against the counter, covering his face with his hands. Emotions were rushing towards him, overtaking him. He wasn't even sure what he felt anymore.  
_  
I feel the beating of your heart  
I see the shadows of your face  
Just know that wherever you are  
Yeah I miss you  
And I wish you were here  
_  
Oh, how Kurt missed him. How he missed the nights so many years ago when the two of them would curl up on Kurt's bed, flip through an issue of Vogue or watch You've Got Mail. When they would walk through the mall hand in hand, sit on a blanket at the park gazing up at the clouds.

But that was all so long ago. Could it ever be like it was? Kurt didn't know, but suddenly he realized that no matter what, no matter the pain that could come from it, the heartbreak that it could cause, he wanted to find out. He wanted to try again. With Blaine.  
_  
I miss the years that were erased  
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face  
I miss all the little things  
I never thought that they'd mean everything to me  
Yeah I miss you  
And I wish you were here_

So far away from where you are  
These miles have torn us worlds apart  
And I miss you, yeah I miss you  
And I wish you were here

By the time the end of the song came, Kurt was sitting on the kitchen floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach and his knees pulled up. Tears were creating dark drip marks on his hoodie as they trailed down his cheeks and fell from his chin. He didn't move, even when a hauntingly familiar Katy Perry song came on and his sobs became louder, calling Rachel back into the kitchen. She shut off the radio and knelt beside Kurt, pulling him into her arms. He went willingly, collapsing into her.

"I- I still love him," he choked out.

She rubbed his back, aware that he was admitting this more to himself than to her. Never the less, she whispered back soothingly, "I know, Kurt. I know. But it's not over."

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Later that afternoon, Blaine's phone rang, and an achingly familiar song played. He disbelievingly grabbed it off the coffee table, setting his book down. A picture of Kurt was on the screen. It had only been about a week since he had seen the man in person, but their good-bye had still not happened, and he had missed him an unbelievable amount. And now he was scared, scared that even though Kurt had promised, even though there was an oath that good-bye would never be said between them, that maybe, maybe that promise had expired and now was the time. Kurt had heard the song and couldn't believe he had the gall, or just wouldn't forgive him. And he would say good-bye.

So with that fear deep in his stomach, Blaine nervously touched his thumb to the _Talk _button and lifted it to his ear, closing his eyes. "Hello?"

"Blaine?" the familiar, beautiful voice of Kurt breathed out. Blaine lost the ability to breathe, waiting anxiously for his next words. "I think we need to talk."

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_**A/N: **__So, I hope you guys liked that! Please let me know what you think of the pacing- too fast, too slow- and anything else. :)_

_The song used in this chapter was From Where You Are by Lifehouse, who I've been listening to a lot of on my The Script Pandora station, which is MARVELOUS. _

_Don't forget I have another fic started called Broken Bones, Broken Spirits, if you want to check that out. ;) It's a Klainer as well, because, well, what else would I write?! ;D_

_Also, my tumblr changed. It's now nightblainewarbler So find me there if you want to join in my fangirling over Glee, Darren, Chris, Matt Bomer, etc. :)_

_Thank you, and to all my American readers, I hope you had a great Thanksgiving full of food, fun, family, friends, and Glee! _


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